Thirteen Souls
by The Bloody Red Queen Of Angst
Summary: Shiro Kogara is a socially awkward physician working in the trauma ward. Akito Sohma is an emotionally fragile young woman posing as a man. The two meet in a twisted play of fate, and Shiro soon discovers that Akito has secrets far darker than her identity. A dark remastering of the Fruits Basket fandom. Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.
1. The Graveyard Shift

Grasping my name-tag and the clipboard from the nurses station between my fingers, I readied myself for the start of my shift. Most physicians here disliked the overnight graveyard shift. I would constantly hear my colleagues complain about how it took them away from their families. Their husbands and wives. Sons and daughters. Friends. Their lives. Their beds. Some even complained about how they missed their pets during the lateness of the hour.

Me? I kind of liked it.

Except for the occasional drunkard or tweaker that was emitted by emergency personnel after a bar fight or overdose, the graveyard shift at the hospital was quiet. Peaceful. Boring, even, to an extent. Something I didn't mind in the least. As for the sentiment of 'missing out' on events during the waking hours when the rest of this world would burst forth and breathe into life? For me, there was really nothing and no one to miss.

"Good evening, Doctor Kogara." One of the nurses greeted me as I passed her by, offering her the wave of my hand as I went about making my first rounds of the evening.

"Hey Shiro!" I heard this more enthusiast response to my arrival some distance away as I gave a small sigh.

...already he was starting in on me...

"You're finally here! That's great!" This came a little too friendly from my already overly friendly co worker as I felt my features shifting into an unintentionally stern scowl.

"...Satoshi..." I deadpanned monotonously towards my friend's knowing smile as it widened ever so slightly to my reaction.

As if he knew he already had me right where he wanted me. And...truth be told...he probably did. But I wasn't about to tell him that. And that _certainly_ didn't mean I would make this easy for him.

...if he wanted something from me _this_ time, he would have to work for it...

"I'm glad it's you clocking in tonight."

"What do you want _this_ time, Satoshi?" I cut him off coolly, pretending to feign indifference to his antics as I stared at the clipboard in my hand.

"Oh come on. Don't be like that, Shiro." I heard him almost whine with that hurt tone he only _thought_ worked on me. "It's not like I'm _always_ asking you for something." And my gaze finally lifted from the clipboard in my hand as I gave a stern look and the dubious raise of my eyebrow, silently calling him out on his verbal bluff before his cheeks puffed and he gave a loud huff of concession towards being caught.

...again...

"Okay fine." Satoshi grumbled reluctantly. "I was suppose to be out of here an hour ago, but then the EMT's went and brought me a new case. 19 year old cutter. I already stitched him up and filled out the intake paperwork." He murmured, finally allowing himself to show the fatigue of his shift as his weary gaze met mine. "Shit." This curse quietly slipped through the breath of a whisper, one of his hands moving instinctively to the back of his neck as his gaze came cast to the ground along with his normally lighthearted demeanor. "These kids just keep getting younger, man."

At some point in their residency in this trauma ward, every physician inevitably found their personal weakness. A single dark, sobering moment of truth that either made them a better, more unshakable doctor...or it broke them completely. For my friend Satoshi, this was teen suicide. A growing epidemic in this city that brought him so close to his breaking point. Once. When he had lost a twelve year old girl to an intentional overdose of acetaminophen and alcohol. Even though he had eventually learned to laugh and smile again after a brief sabbatical and some help, Satoshi had never really been the same after that incident.

So when he brought up the fact that this new case was a potential suicide attempt, I immediately softened my more stern expression towards him and offered a genuine nod to let him know I was willing to help this time.

"What do you need?" My voice came tender towards my friend's request for assistance and support as his gaze met mine again.

"I'm pretty sure it's an open and shut case." He murmured lightly to me, handing off the manila file that had been tucked under his arm. "But I still want a psychiatric assessment and suicide risk analysis before I'm willing to release this kid." And I nodded to this as a smile of relief washed over his features.

"I'll have the assessment ready for you when you get back in tomorrow morning." I assured him with the calm lull of my voice and steady gaze.

"Thanks, man." He whispered, the smallest tug of an impishly wry smile coming back to life along his lips. "Shiro the hero."

"You really need to stop calling me that." I muttered through mild irritation that he quickly laughed off.

"You know you like it."

"Go home, Satoshi." I practically groaned, dispelling the man's laughter at my expense. "Get some sleep, okay." This came murmured more seriously in the wake of our friendly banter. "I'll watch over the kid tonight." I reassured him. "He'll be here tomorrow." With this promise Satoshi gave a silent nod of genuine gratitude.

"Thank you." This gesture of appreciation came through weary lips and a tired smile as he turned to make his way to the nurses station to clock out. "And I think you'll like this kid." Satoshi offered this through a casual glance over his shoulder. "He seems like your kind of weird."

" _My_ kind of weird..." I grumbled passively to this as I heard him chuckle in response before disappearing for the evening. "...great..." And with this, I too, turned away in order to go and meet my newest charge.

Slowly trudging to the hospital room where Satoshi had placed him, I read the scant file containing this patients information. 19 year old male. Deep, lateral lacerations on both wrists. Evidence of past self harm. No listed family or kin. EMT's reported receiving a single phone call alerting them of the patient's suicide attempt. The young man had been completely hysterical and emotionally distraught upon their arrival and had needed to be sedated. The paramedics on site had managed to find the patient's identification in his apartment.

Akito Sohma.

It seemed like Satoshi had been right after all. This was a relatively straight forward case. And pending my evaluation, it seemed that there would be little else left to do after the mandatory 24 hours we were required to hold this young man for observation. Then we would need to release him...and hope for the best.

...hope...

Another soft sigh pushed through my nose to reign in and center my thoughts as I rapped my knuckles softly along the hospital door to announce myself before entering.

"Good evening, Mr. Sohma." I lulled calmly, my tone even and coolly professional as I addressed the young man sitting in the hospital bed.

And as my gaze drifted from the file in my hand to the patient in question, I took in the lean, almost skeletally slender form in the bed. The young man still wore the same clothes I assume he had been brought here in. A simple, loose black button down shirt, its sleeves rolled to just below the elbow revealing the thick bandages wrapping both wrists. Just above the bandages I could see signs of faint scarring along the pale flesh of his arms. And more faint scarring was visible along the young man's collar bones where the black shirt had been left unbuttoned. The shirt came untucked along tight black jeans that made the already thin figure appear almost fragile in his thinness.

Making mental notes to work into my evaluation, I continued to make quick, studious observations of this patient's physical presentation. Though the young man's short thick, inky black hair came strangely disheveled as it fell along and around his face, it appeared that he was relatively clean and put together. I made a note that the use of dark clothing _could_ point to emotional instability. I also held reservation that this could simply be a fashion statement and nothing more.

The young man's expression came veiled through that hair of his, and a screen of smoke as he quietly exhaled the drag of a cigarette. Thin fingers held the cigarette poised as he stared off at the wall to the side of him, ignoring the fact that I had entered the room. This too, I made a note of.

"My name is Doctor Shiro Kogara. I'm here to talk with you, if I might." I paused, walking a little further into the room after little to no response from the patient. "How are we feeling tonight?"

And with this question. This _one_ question, the young man offered the stir of a response. A low, soft, bitter snort of smoke before the lithe tenor of his voice soon followed.

" _We_ are doing just fine this evening." He retorted lightly with the use of my own words as his gaze came captivated by the end of his cigarette. "Thank you _very_ much for asking...doctor." These words came so cold and resentful, followed by an even colder gaze as dark black orbs were cast in my direction.

I gave a small side smile to this snarky presentation as I pulled up one of the plain chairs to the side of the bed.

"Shall we begin, then?" I managed my more monotonous, professional tone as the young man's features remained ghostly stoic.

"...lets..." This invitation came in a resounding whisper weighed down by the task at hand as I settled myself comfortably in the chair with the clipboard I had retrieved earlier.

"Did you attempt to kill yourself tonight?" I dove into the first question with the inclination that this young man would respond best to blunt questioning.

"No." And this unexpected response caused me to pause as my gaze lifted from the form to meet that dark penetrating stare veiled through black bangs and smoke.

"So this was an accident, then?" I questioned in order to find clarification in this statement the patient had made.

"No. Not exactly." The young man offered cryptically before his lips met the end of the cigarette in a long drag of consideration.

"Were you attacked?" I asked calmly, pacing myself as I sifted through his answers to find resolution.

"No." This answer came soft through another whisper of smoke and the small shake of his head as my expression furrowed in mild bemusement.

Satoshi had been right. This young man was...strange. To say the least.

"Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Sohma?" I asked, each word falling from my lips like a hammer against nails, my gaze flitting from the bandages to the young man's face as I held his dark stare with the raise of my eyebrow.

"That _really_ depends on who you ask." He lightly murmured as he gave a final drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out with spindly fingers.

"It will be in your best interest to give me a straight answer." I responded coolly before I witnessed thick lashes flutter with the infinitesimal quiver of the lips as the young man's delicate features shifted and changed ever so subtly from petulant stoicism to a level of almost startlingly broken vulnerability.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." His voice came so soft and mournfully forlorn under the threat of cracking along unshed tears before he quickly turned away to the wall in order to hide himself.

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 **A/N: Oaky. So I tried. I REALLY tried to hold off on creating this story until my other projects were resolved. But the idea simply wouldn't let me quietly put it down. I hope you all enjoy this, and for the record for anyone confused after reading this. As per the story summary, yes, Akito IS a woman in this. But as for the introduction, Akito has been identified as a male. It will become a lot more clear as the story progresses, I promise.**


	2. From 'Peculiar' To Downright Confusing

**A/N: So, I was challenged by TohruKyoYuki to make this entire story in First Person Point Of View. Now, for those of you familiar with my writing, you all KNOW that this will be a challenge for me. But...if you have gotten to know me, you ALSO know that I don't back down from a challenge. So...TohruKyoYuki, challenge accepted. Let us see how this goes...**

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I loved the quiet of the graveyard shift. It was peaceful. Out of all the varied hours of the day that I was required to work in order to keep my license, I enjoyed the early morning the most. Because...I rather liked being alone. Always had, for as long as I could remember. It was ironic, I know, considering my profession dealing with people. But, then again, maybe it made a little more sense than it first seemed on the surface. I was good at working with people...at a distance. An objective third party observer, looking in on a situation others were too close to. And unlike Satoshi, my role at the hospital actually demanded that I never get personally involved with the patients.

...and...maybe _that's_ why I was so good at what I did...

The soft, gentle knock at my office door drew my gaze away from the report looming on my computer screen.

"Knock knock." I heard the familiar warmth of these bubbly words before I saw who it was that had disturbed me. "Good morning, Doctor Kogara." A small smile lifted the corner of my lips towards this greeting as my gaze drifted to the clock along my office wall.

2:26 AM.

"Good morning, Tohru." I responded cordially as I finally swiveled in my chair to face the exuberantly cheerful resident nurse standing just outside my office door. "What can I do for you?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" She giggled happily as she leaned her delicate frame against the threshold of my door, offering another one of her winning smiles towards me. "I'm going for my rounds down the hall and was wondering if you wanted me to bring you back a coffee." And I took a moment to consider this option as my gaze flitted back to the computer screen.

There was little to nothing of the assessment I had just been working on. Satoshi's patient had been less than forthcoming about the circumstances surrounding his arrival. A small sigh pushed through my nose. And his last words still lingered in my mind.

 _'You wouldn't believe me even if I told you.'_

The question was...what wasn't he telling me?

"Doctor Kogara? ...sir...?" Tohru's sweet voice came veiled in concern as my gaze met her's once more. "Is everything okay?" And I found myself offering the ghost of a smile in response to her genuine warmhearted kindness.

"Everything's fine, Tohru." I murmured politely, my gaze flitting to the computer once more before my voice came decisive. "I think I just need a break, is all." Tohru nodded sympathetically in reply to this, as if she understood completely.

...who knows... Maybe she did.

"A cup of coffee sounds nice." I mused towards this offer, stretching my stiff frame before slowly standing from my seat. "I'll just go ahead and come with you, if that's alright." I heard the effeminate, bubbly giggle towards my slightly awkward request to accompany the young nurse.

"Of course, Doctor Kogara!" Tohru chirped in jubilation, that sweet smile spreading along her delicate lips. "I'd love the company." With this enthusiastic concession I saved the report on my computer and made my way out of the small room and into the darker hallway with Tohru.

Akito Sohma _and_ his pending assessment would still be there when I got back.

Tohru's delicate footsteps softly tapped along the hospital tiles, gently caressing the peaceful quiet with their unobtrusive presence in the early morning hour as I silently kept pace by her side until that very silence was completely obliterated by the high pitched sounds of hysterical wailing and lamentation. Our footsteps quickened their pace towards the source of this frightening outburst before Tohru's tiny hand roughly knocked on the door to the room in question in order to pierce through the distraught crying.

"Excuse me." Tohru's voice rose above the spectacle on the other side of the door. "Are you okay?" And her tiny hand went for the handle for the hospital door knob to let herself in when there was no response or relief from the choking sobs.

I stayed behind at a distance. Just outside the threshold of the door. Ever the objective observer.

Plunging herself bravely into the darkness lingering along the other side of the door, Tohru was assaulted with black nothingness and the loud hysterics that filled the entire space with such terrified pain and anguished despair.

"I'm nurse Honda," I heard Tohru speak loudly through the relentless noise, her voice calm and soothing in its determination. "...It's okay now." She reassured to the inconsolable shadows of the room.

"I can't see!" This hysterically distraught tenor wailed out, cutting her off in the comfort she attempted to offer. "It's too dark!" These frightened, disembodied words broke down into gasps for air and deep uncontrollable sobs. "...and I can't see...!" Responding to this distress, I watched Tohru carefully usher herself through the darkness in search of the dim light of the wash room.

The disembodied voice continued to cry into the darkness. The trembling tenor broke into unintelligible sobs, choking and gasping for air as Tohru finally located the bathroom switch to drive away the darkness with soft, unobtrusive ambiance light.

"There." I heard the familiar tenor of Tohru's sweet voice as she murmured soothingly. "That's better." As I witnessed Tohru turn to offer further reassurance to the patient in the room, I myself was truck by the heartbreaking sight before me.

The frightened, almost childlike voice we had heard in the darkness had sounded far younger than the man now curled, terrified and trembling in the bed. And I noticed that Tohru had needed to take a moment to settle herself with the shocking sight before her. The mature, lean frame of young adulthood curled in on himself. His thin figure almost swimming in the fabric of the loose, black button down shirt he wore. The young man's fragile body trembled uncontrollably in fear and duress as his slender fingertips came laced over lips that quaked under muffled sobs. Deep black orbs danced, wide and frightened as tears helplessly trailed down his flushed cheeks, his thick black hair as disheveled and wild as that gaze that stared at Tohru in terrified horror.

"...I don't know where I am..." The young man's voice rushed through finger-laced lips in a low, frantic hush, his wide onyx gaze darting around the room. "I woke up in the dark...and I don't know where I am." His body trembled as fresh tears sprung to life down along his cheeks. "Where am I?" This question came bubbled up in another helpless sob.

"St. Luke's International Hospital. Tokyo, Japan." Tohru soothed warmly, slowly approaching the young man curled in the bed like one approaching a timid, skittish animal.

"Hospital..." I heard the young man echo disorientedly as his weeping ebbed and flowed into muffled quiet. "I'm in a hospital." He murmured again disjointedly through his fingers before his dark gaze began to dart frantically around the room with growing awareness. "I'm in a _hospital_?" His voice rose in a level of renewed panic as this revelation finally sunk in and dawned on him. "I did something to end up in a _hospital_?!" The young man began to hyperventilate, thrown into a renewed wave of hysteria as his eyes widened and brimmed with the threat of fresh tears.

And from a distance where I stood with my objective view of this bizarre spectacle, I took notice that Tohru had instantly realized her unintentional misstep as she quickly moved herself to the young man's bedside.

"Oh no, no, no, sweety. Shh." Her more maternal nature took over as she witnessed the distraught young man's features quickly contort and crumple into agonized guilt, fresh tears welling up through heavy, hyperventilating sobs.

"But I didn't _mean_ to!" He wailed hysterically for her to believe him as she moved without a second thought to wrap her arms around his thin frame.

"Shh...it's okay." She comforted, rocking him gently to her side as she stroked his dishevel hair...because she didn't know what else to do.

"I'm sorry!" He continued in deep, heavy sobs, burying and hiding his face in her shoulder as his fragile body shook with the force of his weeping. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't mean it! I didn't mean to!" He wailed with the weight of each and every inconsolable apology.

For the longest time I stood in silence. A voiceless witness to this somber scene as Tohru simply held this fragile, trembling form to hers while it heaved under the weight of such heavy sorrow. Allowing the young man to helplessly cling to her as the early morning quiet continued to be marred with his lamentations. And...I found myself truly and genuinely befuddled by what I was seeing. I had witnessed severe disorientation in trauma patients before. This was to be expected. Anticipated, even, to an extent.

...but this...

 _This_ seemed so far beyond any amount of distress and confusion the patient might have experienced becoming disoriented. As I stood, watching from the doorway, I simply _couldn't_ believe that this was the same cold, closed off young man I had spoken to only hours before. There was absolutely _nothing_ guarded about him in the early morning hour. Everything about him now came so raw, open...so painfully exposed. And I saw how it tore and ate away at the woman who silently held him together in her arms. Yet...I remained distant. Objective.

...I had to...

I wouldn't be any good to him if I became emotionally involved. So I allowed the ever sweet and compassionate Tohru to act as my heart. She had been immediately hired after interviewing for this internship, in spite of her lack of experience. Simply because she was such a naturally gifted caretaker, and she'd had such a calming and positive effect on the patients at the time. That, and she was incredibly smart, despite her outwardly exuberant and bubbly nature. Anything else she had needed to know about the job she quickly learned.

"...please..." The small, terrified voice dispelled my thoughts as I gazed into the darkness of this scene before me. "I'm so sorry." The young man repeated again, though it seemed to me that his voice had lost some of its hysteria and grown exhausted in his previously escalated state. "...whatever I did..." I heard him whisper wearily into Tohru's shoulder. "...I..." He gave a small hiccup of a sob as he murmured weakly. "I promise it won't happen again. Just...please..." This small whimper came drawn from his lips as he finally lifted his head from Tohru's shoulder to stare directly at her. "...can I please go home, now...?" His dark obsidian gaze blurred with the threat of new tears as he whispered lightly to her, imploring along trembling lips. "...please...?"

Tohru's gaze flitted to me in a moment of quiet discernment as I watched her brow furrow with how exactly to reply. And I gave a small, cautionary shake of my head to her, silently coaching her to proceed carefully in her response...because I knew that she could. And would.

"Oh sweety..." She cooed almost sadly as she continued to tenderly brush the young man's hair from his face. "We can't let you leave just yet, okay?" The young man's expression quickly fell and crumbled again with the quiver of his lower lip.

"But I want to go home." I heard his voice manifest so forlornly as I continued to observe this bizarre change from the first time I had spoken to him. "I want to sleep in my own bed." He whimpered to my staff. "I can't sleep here, and I'm really tired. Whatever I did I _promise_ it won't happen again." The young man repeated strangely as he continued to implore my nurse, as if he truly didn't know what he had done and why he was here. "I just want to go home and sleep." He attempted to reassure her through the quiver of his lip and the quiet, unobtrusive tears that made their way along his cheeks.

"Sweety..." Tohru's brow furrowed as she gave pause, her bottom lip making its home between her teeth as she gave a small sigh through her button nose before I heard her soothing tenor once more. "...we need you to stay here with us tonight, okay?" She soothed, her words coming calm and comforting in their simplistic delivery, like a mother speaking to a very small child. "We're going to watch over you and keep you safe." She assured the young man still in her arms as she held him captivated with her words. "And maybe if you're feeling better when you wake up tomorrow morning, we can talk to the doctors about you going home then, okay?" And I watched the young man consider these words for a somber moment, his dark gaze cast to the side before Tohru beamed a smile towards him as her voice drew him in once more. "Hey, I know." Her voice came jubilant over the idea she just had as her smile swept along her delicate lips. "I bet that Doctor Kogara and I can find you some pajamas to sleep in tonight if that would make you feel more comfortable." She smiled encouragingly to the timid young man as the small ghost of a smile lifted my own lips to this idea, giving a small silent nod to Tohru that I would certainly help with this endeavor. "And the best part is that when you wake up you'll get to look like all the other people that work here!" She giggled as she watched the once terrified, grief stricken young man shyly smile at this thought. "It'll be great!"

"I'll go and find something that will fit him." I murmured lightly to Tohru, giving her another nod to a job well done in her quick thinking before I quietly dismissed myself to leave the young man in her capable and nurturing hands.

As I quickly ushered myself to the nurses station to procure a pair of scrubs, I found myself even more baffled than before. This patient was an even larger enigma than I thought upon having first attempted to interview him in the aftermath of his arrival to this hospital. And now I had yet _more_ inconclusive, opposing observations to put down in his assessment.

Making my way swiftly back to the room, I couldn't help but give another small smile at how Tohru had so quickly calmed and befriended this strange young man, the two of them whispering quietly to each other in the darkness. Wordlessly entering the room I handed Tohru the hospital scrubs I had managed to find as she gave me a warm, cheerful smile in reply.

"Thank you, Doctor!" She chirped happily, the warm, infectious smile along her lips spreading as she turned from me to the young man again. "Okay." Tohru murmured tenderly, her soft maternal gaze holding dark obsidian with that smile of hers. "Let's get you into these pajamas so you can sleep, hm?" And I watched the young man nod shyly, his gaze still rather large and owl-like in disorientation as he helplessly allowed the young woman to gently manipulate one of his arms to begin carefully unrolling the sleeves of his black button-up shirt over his bandage. "Let me know if this hurts."

Tohru prattled calmly in her sweet tenor before I heard the soft makings of music humming from her lips as she worked to unfurl the young mans shirt sleeves. And I felt myself drifting along the current of this lullaby as I stood just outside the door to monitor the situation. Observe and assist as needed. As Tohru aided the young man in unbuttoning his shirt to remove it, we were _both_ hit with the same overwhelmingly baffling site. At the _very_ same time. Taking in the tight, strapless black band around the young man's chest, Tohru's confused gaze quickly flitted to me. And I was absolutely _certain_ that my features mirrored hers in my own perplexed and surprised expression with the high arch of my brows.

Because this young man wasn't a _man_ at all. Something I could see even the lovely Tohru hadn't expected. Quelling her surprise with one of her warm, tender smiles, Tohru quickly turned to the young woman to continue offering her assistance.

"Okay, sweety. Lift your arms up and hold still so I can help you take this off, okay?" She murmured sweetly to the young woman who didn't give the prompt a second though as thin, spindly arms were raised in compliance.

And I decidedly turned away, easing the door shut to provide some privacy for Tohru to do her work with the young woman. Resting my tall, lean frame against the wall just outside the room, I gave myself over to a confounded sigh. Because after all of my observations I was left with more questions than answers, along with a startling revelation.

This situation had quickly gone from _'peculiar'_ to downright confusing.

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 **A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the building mystery of this story, and thank you to all who reviewed chapter one! And...I promise...things will get even more confusing before they start to make sense! But as it stands I am more than willing to entertain your guys' theories.**

 **As a side note, but by no means of lesser important, I heard briefly of a tragedy in Kyushu, Japan, where at least 41 people died after a series of earthquakes struck the region. Now, I know you all love anime, manga, and the wonder, talented people of Japan just as much as I do. So I hope you join me in solidarity in keeping them in your thoughts and prayers.**


	3. A Spoon Full Of Sugar And A Prayer

**A/N: Guess what?! I'm BACK! To all of you who so enthusiastically supported this story's sudden beginning, I honestly cannot thank you enough, and no words will do. To those who have waited so patiently for its continuation though my other various distractions of late, you have my deepest gratitude.**

 **Special thanks to those who reviewed:**

 **MoonlitAtMidnight**

 **SweetLiars**

 **Fandom Angst**

 **christina01t**

 **James Birdsong (guest reviewer)**

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"Morning, Shiro." This greeting came less than exuberant as it heralded the early morning hour, followed by the swift, almost unceremonious presentation of a cup of coffee along my desk.

"Satoshi." I responded lightly, not bothering to look from my computer screen as my fingers laced around the gifted beverage.

This had been our routine for as long as we had known each other. Whenever one of us pulled a graveyard shift and the other came in the following morning. We would find each other. Touch base. And bring a coffee. Today was his turn.

"So how's our boy?" Satoshi's voice came listlessly behind me as I felt him starring over my shoulder at the open document, and after last night's events I felt myself at a loss of words for my old friend.

"I wasn't able to complete my assessment." This fell monotonously flat from my lips with a small sigh as I swiveled in my chair to face Satoshi, causing the man to quickly retreat from my personal space. "I was just about to go and see if the patient was awake." I murmured as I glanced upward at Satoshi from my seat. "I'm hoping that this time around I'll be able to get more conclusive information in order to determine their mental state." Slowly standing from my seat, I took my coffee and the clipboard containing the hard copy of my assessment with me as I met Satoshi with a measured expression. "Walk with me?" And Satoshi silently nodded to this as we moved from my office out into the hall.

"So what exactly where you able to find out about this kid, anyway?" Satoshi murmured, having claimed the scant file on Akito Sohma.

"Not much." I answered my colleague honestly. "They weren't exactly forthcoming during my initial assessment." The memory of the cold, despondent child I had first met came to my mind.

Cold and guarded. Hardened and disillusioned...and just a bit cynical. Then there were those haunted black orbs that had held such fragility in their disheartened sorrow. Finally...the hysterics. And _none_ of these pieces seemed to fit together in creating the larger picture. And the more I took stalk of what I actually _knew_ and could verify...the more confounded I became.

"Alright." This came through the sip of coffee as Satoshi gave me an uncharacteristically serious expression...the man had never been one for early mornings, and it showed. "I'm off to make my first rounds." He gave a small pause, readying himself to part ways with me and conduct his business. "Come find me before you leave?" And I gave a small nod to him in concession as he turned on his heels, silently lifting his hand in farewell as I gave a small side smile.

Making my way alone the rest of the distance, I finally reached my destination. I tucked the clip board underneath my arm to free my hand of the coffee cup as thin fingers curled in a fist to lightly rap along the hospital room door. And I began to wonder...who exactly would I find this time when I entered this room?

The cold cynic who had attempted to evade me?

The fragile doubter who had mistrusted me?

The fearful hysteric who had wept uncontrollably in front of me?

I didn't know. And that bothered me...more than I wanted to admit. Constructing my features in stoic professionalism, I turned the knob and internally braced myself. Gently opening the door, my gaze took in the stillness of the figure sitting up in the bed. But...she was awake.

Her face was turned from me as she stared off at the wall again, so I had no idea of the expression shaping her pale features. That thick inky, boyish black mop came starkly contrasted with the white stubs that I had found for her, yet they only served to make her appear all the more pallid. The darker clothing she had come dressed in lay folded in the chair next to the hospital bed meant for visitors, courtesy of Tohru. And for a moment I stood at the threshold, waiting for her to notice me as to not intrude unexpectedly. My shift swiftly coming to its end, I cleared my throat to expedite matters and unobtrusively draw her attention to my presence.

"Good morning." I greeted coolly, my tone smooth and practiced.

The slowed turn of her head and a light tilt revealed thin, delicate lips laced with a white stick of sorts. That dark onyx gaze regarded me for a moment, absorbing my presence before those lips began to form in a small smile that grew upon itself as fingers grasped the stick to retrieve and withdraw the lolly pop from her mouth.

"Guten Tag, Herr Doctor!" This foreign greeting came so unnaturally chipper along a bright and strangely elated smile that it momentarily brought me aback and left me quite speechless.

"I take it that you're well this morning..?" I responded cautiously to this greeting as the young woman gave a fervent bob of her head and that bright smile.

"Oh yes, Doctor." She trilled happily, drawing attention to the lolly pop in her hand. "A really nice lady named Miss Tohru _just_ gave this to me." This came jubilantly from her lips. "She said that it would help make me feel better." And I watched as her expression faltered slightly at my lack of reciprocation to her joy over the candy. "I hope that's okay." She murmured lightly. "I don't want to get her in trouble." And my expression softened somewhat over this candid concern.

"It's fine." I murmured reassuringly before stepping further into the hospital room. "You won't be getting her into trouble." That bright cheery smile manifested over this statement as the woman grinned at me, popping the lolly pop back in her mouth to finish it off.

"Danke vielmals!"

I gave the bemused cant of my head to this, once again taken aback by these strange words. And the woman, registering my slightly baffled expression, gave an almost whimsical look through those dark, penetrating obsidian orbs.

"My father's Japanese." She spoke warmly, her voice tender as she seemed to read the questions swimming through my mind. "I don't remember much of my mother." This came soft and her smile became more gentle and less overly exuberant. "She left when I was very young." At this, only the smallest falter of that happy expression manifested before the woman claimed it back from this sad thought. "But what I _do_ know, was that she was _very_ beautiful." Her expression turned whimsical once more in almost childlike adoration. "And that she was German."

I found myself drifting closer to the hospital bed, somewhat enamored by yet another puzzle piece this enigma had presented to me. Sitting myself along one of the free guest chairs in the room, I placed my coffee down and grasped the clip board from the security of my arm. Pacing myself for the task that lay ahead of me, I quickly took stalk of this new information and change of temperament. Bright, happy appearance. Open. Candid. Sincere. Yet more conflicting and baffling traits that didn't fit with what I had seen the night before.

"So." I began slowly. "You're mother is German?" I questioned, showing interest in hopes of building rapport.

"Yes." The woman responded from where she reclined in the hospital bed. "That's where I get my looks." She flashed another beautifully radiant smile.

I decided to make the best of this woman's more forthcoming nature as I settled myself in to continue with my clinical assessment.

"Is it alright if I ask you some questions?" My voice came calm and smooth as my gaze lifted from the clipboard to meet her expression as she gave another exuberant bob of her head.

"Of course, Doctor." She readily gave her consent. "Fire away." And my gaze drifted back towards the clipboard of endless questions before me.

"You were admitted into this trauma ward last night with deep vertical lacerations on your wrists." I murmured professionally, pacing myself with this inquiry. "How exactly did those injuries occur?" My words came slowed and open ended as my gaze flitted forward to glance at the woman reclining in the bed.

"An accident?" The woman gave an almost impishly cheeky smile to this questioned response. "I'm pretty clumsy sometimes." This came giggled from thin, delicate lips. "Always running into things and people."

"Hm." I hummed in a passively curious tone. "Is that so?"

"Oh yes, Doctor." This came genuine with yet another nod of concession. "I'm always coming up with bumps, cuts and bruises." She responded through a sincere, congenial lilt and honest gaze. "Half the time I have no idea how they even get there." The woman gave an almost innocently childlike ruffle of her boyish haircut and the small bow of the head to her statement.

My eyes unintentionally drifted along the brutally bandaged wrists and several visible scars along her prominent collarbones. A part of me wanted to believe her story. But...another part of me felt as if there was something she was working to hide. Presenting herself as a man threw her honesty into question. And I gave a small sigh to this thought as I glanced back to my clipboard, preparing myself for the next line of more invasive and unpleasant questions.

"And this doesn't concern you?" I asked, as my gaze stayed trained on the clipboard. "That you don't know how you end up with these injuries."

"Not really." This response came carefree and chipper. "I'm pretty use to it. My memory's not all that great either." Another lighthearted giggle manifested along this answer. "Why, Doctor?" This question drew my gaze back to the woman's features. "Should it?"

And I gave pause over this posed question. The lack of memory seemed to be consistent with the fearful hysteric I had observed in the early morning hour. Though, this woman's chipper, unconcerned attitude was a far cry from the fear and confusion she had expressed hours earlier in the darkness before dawn.

"Tell me..." I murmured quietly as I penned along my clipboard, making studious notes for my assessment. "...do you take any prescription medications or other substances?" I asked. "Drugs or alcohol?" Pending on the answer, this may account for the change in temperament and poor memory. "I assure you that your responses won't get you into any trouble, so please be honest." This came soothing along the heels of her silence as I attempted to reassure her and continue cultivating her openness with me.

"No." This response came unfettered and lacking in concern. "That sort of thing's never interested me." She trilled in the upbeat lilt of her voice.

This came so open and honestly spoken that, for a moment, I found myself almost willing to believe her. And this only caused another flood of bafflement and confusion at my expense.

"Have you ever tried..." I murmured lightly through the distraction of my clipboard and meticulous notes. "...or _though_ of trying to commit suicide..?"

This was the question.

 _'The'_ question.

The one that would determine whether or not this young woman would be able to get up from the bed and dress herself, leaving this trauma ward to go on about her life...or...if that life would be temporarily interrupted. The answer she supplied, and how I felt about it, would determine if she were safe enough to be allowed to go home. And at her silence, my eyes lifted from the clipboard to meet her expression. And the look that graced her features was far more somber and serious than I had expected as she slowly shook her head. Her gaze large and slightly shocked at my question.

"Oh..." She whispered this softly. "Oh no, Doctor." Another shake of her head punctuated her words as she spoke. "Never. Not even once." This came so seriously murmured from her thin, delicate lips as she held my gaze with those dark, penetrating orbs. "It's a mortal sin to end your own life, Doctor."

Had this statement been delivered in any other fashion...any other at all...I would have assumed that this patient was being flippantly sarcastic with me. In fact...I was almost certain that I had experienced this sardonic and evasive demeanor from this woman the other night...when I had initially attempted to interview her for my clinical assessment. I _knew_ that she had been sarcastic with me then. But...now?

Now I got the impression that, this time, she was being completely honest with me.

"Okay then..." My gaze drifted back to the clipboard of notes, making final dictations before coming to tower over the young woman in the bed. "I'll send in a nurse to change your dressings and assist you into your clothing. Then they can show you to the front station in order to fill out forms for discharge." This came murmured from my lips as I fished through the pocked of my white hospital coat in order to retrieve my business card, handing it to the young woman as I watched her glance over it. "My card. Just in case you need someone to talk to after you leave." She gave a nod of thanks, and as I turned to leave the room, I heard her voice call to me.

"Herr Doctor?" I glanced over my shoulder to take in her childlike expression.

"Yes?"

"If she's still here...will you send Miss Tohru in?" She asked. "And will you ask her to bring another lolly pop with her?" And I couldn't help the small smile that laced my lips as I offered her a light nod of the head before exiting the room and stepping out into the hallway.

"Hey! Shiro!" This call drew me from my thoughts as my colleague flagged me down outside of the young woman's room.

"Satoshi." I murmured this through the slight smile that had been on my lips, guessing that the man had gone for another cup of coffee after his first rounds.

"So..?" I watched his gaze drift slightly to the door set ajar before flitting back to me expectantly as I gave a small sigh.

I knew what he was asking me. And...the answer I was going to give him wasn't going to settle well with _either_ of us.

"I'm authorizing discharge." I murmured monotonously, and...as expected...my friend's expression contorted in confusion.

"What the hell, Shiro?" He gave this whispered hiss to avoid drawing attention to his frustration. "I spent last night stitching that kid up!" His voice came almost desperate in confounded alarm. "And you're just sending him back out? Just like that?"

"There's nothing else I can do." I murmured lowly in protest along the furrow of my brow.

"You're not even concerned?!" The man spat in frustration.

"Of _course_ I'm concerned." I hissed back in defense. "But my evaluation found that there's no immediate threat of harm to self or others." This explanation did little to settle the uneasiness churning in my core over this decision. "You _know_ I can't force unnecessary hospitalization. It's not legal." I fought to keep my voice from faltering under his gaze. "We have to let her go, Satoshi."

"Fine..." Came this grumbled concession of defeat as his gaze fell from me to the ground before flying back to my face in a double take. "Wait... What?"

And I honestly tried not to smirk at the surprise that shaped Satoshi's face, because I was certain that I must have held that very same expression when I found this discovery for myself.

"We can't keep her here." I repeated, watching that shock spread along his face in awareness as his gaze flashed from me to the door.

"No way..." Satoshi hissed as his eyes flitted back to me, taking in my veiled amusement at his expense. "You're seriously telling me that dude in there is a chick?" And I gave a small nod of concession.

"Hey, you were the one that said this kid was my kind of weird." I quipped passively with the small twitch of a smirk as Satoshi shook his head again in disbelief.

"No way..."

"I'm going to the front desk to prepare the discharge forms." I murmured lightly, drawing the man from his shocked stupor as he gave a slow nod. "All we can do now is hope for the best, hm?"

I'd left the young woman with my card. A lifeline, if needed. One I hope that she would never need. With this I placed a gentle hand on my friend's shoulder, passing him by to fetch Tohru before finalizing the discharge forms for Akito Sohma.


	4. Third Person Point Of View

**A/N: This chapter comes slightly inspired by the cover song from Ciara "Paint it Black"**

 **So...First off. I have a lot of apologies to make.**

 **Sorry to SweetLiars for not waiting.**

 **Sorry to MoonlitAtMidnight...for not waiting.**

 **...and...an overall apology for this chapter in general. Now I shall hide in shame.**

* * *

 **WARNING:**

 **The following content may contain elements that may not be suitable for some audiences.**

 **Viewer discretion is advised.**

Three weeks later...

Long, spindly fingers stretched forth to wipe away the steam from the mirror to reveal a distorted, streaked pallid reflection.

 _Black._

Black, depthless eyes stared the other self down with a petulant scowl.

 _Black_

Black tresses strung with beads of water that trailed down and caressed the pale flesh of a slender neckline and sharp collarbone.

 _Black._

Black fabric of the dull bath towel came unfurled from the lean, almost skeletal body as pale skin almost immediately irrupted into goosebumps from the chill of sudden exposure.

 _Black._

Black.

 **Black.**

She owned too much black. She could have played this off with the simple concession that she just liked the color. But...in all honestly...she didn't actually _like_ much of anything.

Least of all herself.

Toweling her hair, she quickly discarded the black towel to the bathroom floor. Turning her naked frame from the scowling face in the mirror she silently stalked out of the bathroom into the one, small room of the dark studio apartment. Bedroom, living room, kitchen, all wrapped into one. Silently passing her bed and moving to the single closet, she began to swiftly peruse the various pieces of clothing hung on thin, flimsy hangers as a bitter smirk twisted her delicate lips.

More black.

Selecting a short, flared skirt, she quickly stepped in and effortlessly slipped it up past her thighs to recklessly cling to her prominent hip bones. Stepping towards the closet once again to the hung clothing, slender fingers claimed a sleeveless corset, wrapping it around her naked torso, tightly lacing it in the front. Walking through the space towards the direction of the bathroom once more, she paused at a small, modest bureau in order to claim a pair of black lace panties before continuing on her way.

Stepping back into the bathroom, she gave another small scowl to the now crystal clear reflection in the mirror who silently returned this hostile expression. Slipping on the lacy, intimate apparel underneath her skirt, she reluctantly stepped to the mirror to don her makeup for an evening out.

Opening the medicine cabinet concealed by the mirror, she felt relief that the other self was temporarily gone. Grasping the products she needed, she meticulously lined them up along the bathroom sink before her dark gaze lifted to what she probably _really_ needed. And the pink liquid bottle mocked her with its happy pastel color.

Over the counter ulcer medication.

Taking the bottle from the medicine cabinet she unscrewed the cap and took an unceremonious sip from the bottle, forgoing the measuring cup as she settled herself with the minty aftertaste that coated the back of her tongue. Not that this would help curb the pain of her medical condition. It never really mattered what she did or didn't do. The lack of food in her stomach caused pain. Eat something...and it would cause pain. And then there was the drinking. Placing the pink bottle back in the medicine cabinet, at least she could say that she tried.

Closing the cabinet door she was presented with her reflection once more. Running bony fingers through her hair to style it into a more suitable look, she gave yet another small frown before readying herself to place on makeup. Black eyeliner. Black charcoal eye-shadow. Black waterproof mascara. And red lipstick.

Ha.

 _Not_ black.

Pursing her lips to evenly apply the lipstick, she stepped back to give herself a final once over. The outfit was only slightly flashier and more revealing that what she normally wore. But, then again, tonight she _was_ going out. She took stalk of how the corset slimmed her already thin figure, though it did have the effect of pushing up and accentuating her poorly endowed chest. And how the flare of her mini skirt gave the illusion of an almost curvaceous silhouette. She frowned, giving herself over to a small sigh.

She looked like a whore.

Never in her life had she ever felt beautiful. Never. Not even once. So she conceded that this shouldn't change tonight. Spiking her hair once more as she turned from the mirror she snapped off the bathroom light and stalked barefoot through the apartment gathering keys, her purse, and a pair of black stilettos before leaving the small space in the wake of complete silence.

Entering into the club she showed her identification to the man who gave her a curious look, but let her through to the bar. Tonight she craved drinks and loud music. And she knew that she had come to the right place for just that. Ordering a large mixed drink of hard liquor, knowing that her stomach would pay for it later, she moved from the bar to the back of the club where there were fewer people. Lingering in the shadows to hide herself while people watching, she relished the warmth and heat of her drink. The warmth and heat of so many bodies in such a small space. And the smells. Alcohol. Perfume. Cologne. And sweat.

It felt like home.

She loved it, because it somehow made her feel alive...and not like a walking corpse. Taking another sip of her drink through red lips laced along a delicate straw, her people gazing came interrupted by a club goer looking to interact.

"Hey doll face." The man purred as he gazed down at her from where she had sat herself, causing her to have to tilt her chin upward in order to return his stare. "Don't _you_ look like a walking wetdream." And she gave a small sigh to this as a little scowl furrowed her pale features.

"Do I...?" She questioned sharply through that dark, foreboding stare.

"Come here often?" The man persisted in romancing her as she fought to avoid a small groan and the rolling of her eyes.

"Is that _really_ the best you can do?" She chastised him as he lent himself over to an impish grin.

"You telling me you don't like it, baby?" And at this a bitter smirk laced her red lips.

"I'm telling you try harder..." She deadpanned before those lips returned to nurse her drink, her body warming with the thrill of the chase and the idea that he just might.

Try harder.

And continue to woo her he did as he bought her another drink. And then another. They filled the time with small talk before she signaled that she was done with this party...and wanting to start another one all together.

The arrival back to her apartment was heralded with heavy panting and a flurry of hungry, ravenous kisses as she fought to find her keys to let them in. Pushing the door open and spilling themselves into the darkened apartment, drunken giggles filled the small space that were taken over and swallowed with more kisses. Lips moving and fighting and warring against each other as she felt his hands all over her.

Though the bed was clearly visible in the small studio apartment, she felt herself moved and guided to a nearby wall. Wrapping her arms along his broad shoulders, she felt the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder lined in fire where his lips met her flesh. His hand moved from her ribcage, down along her corset as fingers grazed the flesh between her top and skirt, dipping lower, grasping her thigh to wrap around his hips before his fingertips began to creep up her skirt. Her lashes fluttered at the sensation of his fingers discovering lace as he began to tug and play along her underwear.

Along the heady breath and the furious pounding of her heartbeat, a dull ache began to spread its tendrils along the swimming and spinning of her head. A dull ache...and slight ringing of her ears as she felt something deep down inside begin to slip.

"Tell me what you want, baby." This came a low, huskily whispered grunt in her ear along warm breath and the scent of alcohol.

She wanted to stay in this moment. To savor this raw delight of human contact. Of making a connection. But the dull roar in her head began to pull her further and further away. She could feel it pull her somewhere else. And she wondered if maybe she'd had too much to drink.

His lips consume hers, smudging her lipstick and leaving her breathless for a response. And fingers continued their teasing along her panties as she bit her lip to stifle a soft moan. There was only one thing that she wanted. One thing...that she had ever wanted. She wrapped herself tightly around him as she felt her slender body effortlessly claimed from the wall as he stalked the both of them over to the bed. And her lips parted in a desperate whisper as she sighed softly in this stranger's ear.

"...make me feel beautiful..."

Everything became so surreal as she felt herself sprawled along the bed, his body on top of her. Fingers ghosted along her cloths until there was noting but skin. And the more he touched her, the less she felt. The darker it became.

Until she felt nothing at all, and something else emerged from the black darkness.

The man felt the body beneath him become slack for a moment. Only a moment before tightening and becoming helplessly rigid.

"Please..." This came moaned in his ear followed by a sharp gasp towards his vigorous efforts.

This, and the weak helplessly whimpered, breathless moans in his ear were horribly mistaken as pleasure and further consent as he continued until he finished.

Hot and completely spent, the man rolled from his position on her to his side, tenderly wrapping himself around the slender body lying next to him. His muscular, tan arm came almost affectionately draped over a slender torso bathed in the color of creme. Brushing his nose along a pale shoulder, drinking in the scent, the man gazed at the form next to him as a contented smile shaped his features.

"What do you say, doll face?" This came almost tender and laced in affection and the scent of alcohol along his breath. "Do you feel beautiful?" And the stranger watched red stained lips give the smallest quiver before that face he adored listlessly fell to the side away from him.

"Please..." These weak, soft spoken words came so heartbreakingly forlorn. "Just leave." And the man furrowed his brow in mild confusion.

"Are you sure, baby?" This came whispered from his lips as the furrow of his brow deepened in a level of concern.

"Yes." This came breathed through lips he couldn't see anymore. "Please just go now." The tiny, fragile voice whispered this, and the man gave an almost sorrowfully dejected look at the naked Aphrodite lying next to him before he pushed himself up from the mattress.

The man dressed himself in silence, avoiding pointed glances towards the nude figure lying almost lifelessly and hollow in the bed as he quietly left without another word.

The spindly figure rose themselves from the bed, and that naked form stumbled into the bathroom, flicking on the harsh light to drive away the black darkness. So much darkness. And pain. There was _so_ much pain. This body ached with the way it had been used. Frantic movements, a flurry of motion, and fingertips grasped what this new flesh cried out for. A new desire.

"What did you do..?" Lips parted in a hissed whisper as the naked form finally slumped and weakly collapsed to the bathroom. "What did you do..?" This came repeated as delicate lips whispered self accusingly once more.

Black orbs took in the tightly grasped metal object. A razor blade. Kept on hand as a necessary outlet. A grounding rod. Long, spindly fingers prepared to begin their work as that dark haunted gaze took in the delicate pale white flesh of the inner thigh. Flesh now filthy and desecrated. And there was this overwhelming desire for punishment.

And so the first cut was made along the inner thigh as white came beaded in red. And as another was made, this desire for self punishment only grew stronger. To cut along every inch of flesh that had been touched...or kissed. To cut away these filthy sensations. These creeping fingers. And the razor was drug along sensitive flesh again and again. Over and over until a helpless sob broke through thin lips and tearless eyes squeezed themselves shut. This fragile body wretched and curled in on itself along the cold bathroom tile as lips finally loosed an agonized, piercing shriek.

" **WHAT DID YOU DO?!** "


	5. Paper Flowers

**A/N: Chapter title comes inspired by Evanescence "Imaginary". But honestly, I just liked the title.**

 **And once again, apologies to SweetLiars, who I know I am pissing off. And they know why. But I promise...you will have what you want soon, my friend. It's just that inspiration for this story has hit me.**

* * *

Three weeks...

It had been three weeks.

Three weeks...since the case that had completely confounded me.

And I hadn't heard a single thing.

In all honestly, I had hoped for this. The lack of a crisis call or any form of contact at all from the young woman was what I had silently prayed for when I watched her leave three weeks ago. But I wasn't a fool. I knew that silence didn't necessarily mean that things were well with her. But...I hoped. Hoped that at least things were well enough for her not to reach out to me. That maybe...just maybe...she was managing to get by in safely navigating this sometimes dark and brutally unforgiving world.

Sometimes...as human beings...that's all we could do. Simply ' _get by_.' Not that I didn't want more for the people I helped. Or even myself, for that matter. But sometimes that's all this world allowed us to do. Simply get by.

Anything more was a precious gift.

Three weeks had passed. And the world continued to spin, almost resiliently, in the face of human hardship and suffering. And I found myself slowly wrapped up in other peoples pain. I found others to help. To watch over. To counsel. And...slowly...my thoughts of her slowly began to fade. Even Satoshi finally stopped asking about her, and if I had ever heard from her again. And we both wanted to assume the best as we resumed our work at the trauma ward.

We had both done our part for that young woman. Helped, in some way. And the rest was left up to something far grander and more powerful than either of us. Some might have found the idea of simply being a tool in a larger scheme to be a bit demeaning. But I didn't mind all that much. In fact...I took comfort in this. It would do these people little good to shoulder their pain all on my own.

"Doctor Kogara..?" A light rapping along the threshold of my office door drew my attention from the paperwork of my latest case as my gaze met that of one of the medical staff filling for the afternoon shift. "There's someone here to see you." And I gave a swift glance to my schedule before my gaze flitted back to the nurse standing outside my door.

My schedule was currently unfilled.

"Have they made an appointment?" I questioned, a little confused as my curiosity came peaked and got the better of me.

"No sir." The staff answered timidly with the shake of his head, having always considered me a bit intimidating and strange. "I don't think so." He murmured lightly with a wayward glance to the hall before his gaze met mine once more. "But they seem really intent on speaking with you, sir. Asked for you specifically." This young hire's expression came guarded as he spoke, his words coming serious in their candid tone. "He says it's an emergency?" And I felt myself give a small sigh to this one word.

Emergency.

The one thing that drove me.

The one thing that I would never turn away from my office.

All the paperwork that came with it could wait.

"Okay." I responded courteously with the small nod of my head to his words. "You can send him in." And the young man gave a swift, silent not in return before seeing himself out.

Then I waited. Waited for this mystery man in the midst of a crisis. A person in need of my help. One who had requested me specifically. And as my expectant gaze met the arrival of this newest lost soul, I was almost certain that my jaw went slack.

It was _her._

Sensible black loafers heralding an almost silent approach. Beige slacks cinched tightly by a slender black leather belt. Wrapped around an even more slender waist that was accentuated with the formality of a tucked button up. White. Different from the colors she had been dressed in when our paths had first crossed. But still her. This masculine attire coming to veil the femininity of her figure.

But this was _still_ her.

Akito Sohma's approach into my office came slow and quiet. Timid. Unsure of itself as her gaze drank in all the detail of my office. Like prey scrutinizing their surroundings for the ever present hunter lying in wait to devour them. An approach far too timid and fragile for the hardens cynic or the cheery effervescent that I had allowed to leave.

So...

Was this the doubter? Or the hysteric?

She found a seat with ready access to my door for an easy exit. And the way she perched herself was so strange, holding her frame poised in an almost rigid stick-like fashion. Poised. Proper, as hands placed themselves primly along her lap. And perfectly still. Too still. It didn't seem natural. Her dark obsidian gaze finally met mine, and I was struck silent by haunted black orbs and the fragile, guarded expression of the doubter.

"Doctor Kogara." This greeting came soft spoken.

Yet my name came hesitant along her lips. More of a guess than a statement. As if she were uncertain of this. Or maybe herself.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I murmured this as soothingly as I could in my practiced tone to put her nervousness at ease as she gave the small bob of her head.

"I had your card?" She whispered this questioningly with the small furrow of her brow. "From when I was brought in." The almost gracefully helpless lift of her arms to gesture to the vivid scars of her wrists as I gave a nod that I understood, and that she need not speak further if she didn't want to.

She gave the smallest smile of gratitude to this gesture of mine. But even with this turn of the lips, it seemed to me as if she wanted to burst into tears.

"How have you been?" I asked, softening my voice to this timid creature as she gave a swift jerk of her head.

"Not good, Doctor." This came forlornly whispered from her lips as her dark gaze fell dejected from my face to the floor below her. "I just don't know what to do anymore." She breathed in agony. "I really don't."

"What happened?" I coaxed gently, hoping to support her through the words she clearly needed to speak in a voice she had yet to find.

I watched the infinitesimal quiver of her lip as her pallid features were shaped into an expression akin to shame and self loathing. That timid gaze flitted from my face to varied objects in my office as I watched her consciously deliberate with herself if she should speak of what plagued her mind.

"Last night." She whispered lightly as I allowed her to pace herself in these clearly disturbing thoughts of hers. "Last night...I woke up completely naked in my bed." Her gaze briefly darted to me, seeming to gauge my response to this as I held a neutral expression, giving a coaxing nod for her to continue. "And there was a man. A stranger. In bed with me." I watched fingers lace lips as she steadied herself along this seemingly troubling fact. "And." This came breathed through thin fingers as she squeezed her gaze shut in shame. "He was on top of me...doing things." She shook her head against this memory, fighting with herself to continue as she kept her eyes shut. "Touching me and moving himself on me. Through me..." A small gasped sigh parted her finger-laced lips as her other hand rested over her lap in an almost protective display.

"I tried. I tried to tell him to stop..." She whimpered almost helplessly through long, slender fingers. "That I was scared. That he was hurting me." A shuddered breath passed through fingers as lashes squeezed just a bit tighter, the woman swiftly jerking her head to somehow shake the memory of this moment. "I tried...but..." She fell into silence, refusing to look at me.

"And then what happened?" I coaxed gently through a professional tone, holding this calm demeanor as her eyes finally opened and I was met with that haunted gaze.

"When he was finished I asked him to leave."

"You didn't call the police?" I queried lightly, my brows furrowed in concern over what she had just disclosed to me.

"No." This came so weak and filled with shame as she shook her head, her gaze once again drifting away from me.

"Why not?" I asked, my concern and bafflement washing away any misconstrued judgment of her decision to stay silent until now.

"Because..." Her voice manifested, so fragile and stricken with grief and shame. "...when he touched me...it felt as if I had somehow given him the impression that I had _wanted_ it." She whispered. "...that I had wanted him and what he did to me..." This came lamented in softly spoken words laced in pain. "...as if I had asked him for it..."

My head spun wildly with this statement. And I didn't quite know what to make of it, though I tried. I tried to place the pieces together in such a way that would make sense of this puzzle. This enigma. She was a young woman over the age of consent. The night before had been Friday. I knew many young adults that consorted at various social hubs and engaged in physical relations without attachments. One night stands. And though she didn't seem the type, I conceded that I had witnessed too many conflicting behaviors and variations of her to know for certain.

"I apologize, but I have to ask..." I murmured, gaining her attention from the wall of my office as she gazed at me through that haunted gaze. "Had you been drinking the night before?" I softly asked, giving pause for reply.

Not only did a part of me wonder if maybe she had met this stranger and willingly indulged in a night of risky behavior...I honestly worried that she may have fallen victim to date rape. But I witnessed how this question affected her. She was stung. Insulted. Ashamed and angered at this question as her expression furrowed underneath the weight of her timid, shy demeanor.

"I _knew_ you wouldn't believe me." The doubter echoed these words laced in bitter resentment, causing me to shake my head.

"It's not that I don't believe what you're telling me." I attempted to assure her of this fact as the small scowl deepened along her pallid features.

"I don't know what kind of person you think I _am_ , Doctor." Her expression quivered between pain and outrage as she deflected my earlier question. "But I'm _not_ the type of person to go out to some club and become intoxicated." This came soft spoken through the sting of indignation. "I do _not_ sleep with people I hardly know." She insisted through that heartbroken expression. "And I most _certainly_ do _not_ 'sleep around' with perfect strangers, least of all _men._ " The small quiver of her lip came with the almost disgusted frown twisting her delicate features as her voice manifested soft and weak in pleading desperation for me to believe her. "I'm _not_ that person." And I could see that she had been well and truly hurt.

"I _am_ sorry." I whispered this in genuine regret towards having caused her more grief than I had intended.

"Do you have _any_ idea how it _feels_ , Doctor..." This thready whisper met me with the stare of those dark, haunted orbs. "...to be completely helpless? Waking up in a constant state of fear and confusion?" She asked through the threat of tears she seemed incapable of releasing. "What it _feels_ like, to live in skin that _constantly_ betrays you?" Her gaze fell along her porcelain flesh, slowly furling and unfurling long bony fingers as once beautiful skin came marred and riddled with scars. "I need your _help_ , Doctor." This came whispered from her lips as her eyes lifted through lashes to view my face.

" _Please._ " She whimpered. " _Help._ "

I was captivated by her plight. Humbled by her desperate plea as I gazed upon her from my desk chair. And I wanted, more than anything, to help. I saw now that I had failed her in our first meeting. That I had somehow missed something. And it seemed that now I was being granted a second chance to discover exactly what it was that I had missed. To help someone so desperately in need.

I saw a desperate, scared little girl hiding behind the power of a masculine appearance in hopes of avoiding the very victimization she said that she had just experienced.

Gazing at my schedule, I gave myself over to a sign that I was due for another appointment in less than half an hour. Swiftly scanning for another available spot, I hoped that if I set up an appointment with this young woman that she would be willing to show and continue speaking with me.

"Would you be willing to come back?" I asked, my gaze drifting back to the young woman, only to watch her expression falter.

"You're not going to help me... _are_ you?" Her voice came breathless and so filled with mistrust. "You want me to leave."

"Not at all." I met her saddened gaze with a steady, comforting stare and the small shake of my head. "I was only hoping to be able to take more time talking with you." I watched her consider this for a moment, looking away before that dark gaze met mine once more and she gave the small bob of her head.

"Okay." She whispered this. "When can I come back?" And for the first time since entering my office I watched her slim figure relax somewhat into a state of relative ease.

With this the two of us set up a time that I had available...and that she was willing to return. Hesitantly I asked if she were willing to temporarily emit herself back into the trauma ward until our meeting. She thanked me politely, but assured me that she would make the appointment. A small promise...that she would hold on until she saw me again. Before she readied herself to depart, I felt myself compelled to speak to her once more.

"Just remember..." I gained that dark piercing gaze that lifted from listless hands. "You're not alone in this, Akito." And I suddenly felt the whole entire world tilt on its axis with the way she stared at me as her features contorted into a horribly confounded expression.

"What...?" This came as a soft hiss. "Akito...?" The woman questioned as I parted my lips to repeat these words of consolation. "Akito?!" I was swiftly cut off and interrupted. "I'm _not_ Akito." She almost spat this in my face as I gave the confused cant of my head. "I'm Yuki." This masculine name came trembled from her lips.

"I'm _Yuki_ Sohma."


	6. Thirteen

"Alright." I murmured lightly in the soothing atmosphere of my office. "I think that's it for today." My voice came laced in that ever present, distant professionalism. "You've made great progress." These words came encouragingly drawn from my lips. "You should be very proud, Kaori." The young woman draped in the crème of one of our hospital robes gave a small nod and shy smile, looking away from me.

"Thank you, Shiro-kun." This overly friendly and intimate title came in a delicate lilt as that smile began to turn seductive and outwardly sexual towards my encouragement, causing a small sigh to manifest from my narrow nose.

"Think about what you are doing, Kaori." I whispered, watching that alluring smile falter, averting her gaze once more at being called to task as attention was drawn towards her behavior.

"I'm sorry, Doctor." She breathed this apology, shifting her tiny body in the seat as slender fingers absentmindedly caressed themselves down the length of her loosely done dark ebony side braid.

"Kaori..." My voice drew her soft brown gaze from the floor of my office.

"Yes, Doctor?" This little voice manifested from her tiny body, her expression abashed and truly ashamed.

"Remember what I told you." I coaxed gently, my eyes holding her timid gaze as she gave a small bob of her head.

"I _never_ have to sell myself to you or anyone to prove my worth." These self confidence bolstering words caused the small lift of her lips, though I saw that she still warred with herself on whether to trust in them or not.

"It may not feel like it today..." I murmured lightly, holding her gaze from where I sat in my office chair. "But I promise that one day you'll be able to believe that." She gave the small bow of her head before quietly exiting my office and being met by one of the ward's female staff.

Kaori Katsuko. Only fifteen, she had been arrested for prostitution in Musashino, a small impoverished prefecture just outside of central Tokyo. But upon being charged with this crime, she was immediately shipped to this facility. Because it had been discovered and substantiated that she had been forcefully drug addicted to heroine, then sold to other men by her thirty two year old boyfriend, Kano, who was currently imprisoned for drug possession with intent to sell as well as sex trafficking.

Instead of serving her six month sentence in a juvenile detention center, the judge had been kind and Kaori was sent here. To me. And I began working with her on addressing her drug addiction and promiscuity. Early on, within the first week of her arrival to the trauma ward, it had been clear that her history of victimization had twisted her into a sexual predator of sorts. Out of necessity. An unsavory survival mechanism discovered when she began to offer her body to male staff for additional methadone. And it was then that I had given strict instructions that Kaori be restricted to an all female staff.

With the exception of myself.

The deciding powers that be, in their infinite wisdom, had determined that Kaori needed a positive male role model. A healthy male attachment. Someone steady enough and unable to be manipulated by her endless sexual advances. A man that she could actually _see_ viewing her in the way she always should have been looked at. Like a human being. The therapy sessions were arduous. A delicate dance of equal parts empathy, guidance, and swift correction of her behaviors. But there _was_ progress. Progress that would never have happened in a detention center. And with this came hope that, eventually, Kaori might possibly have a chance at the normal life she had been so cruelly deprived of.

Stretching myself and taking a deep, cleansing breath to clear my thoughts of Kaori, I readied myself for my next session. And in the back of my mind, I had my doubts that they would show to this appointment. I hoped that they would. They had been so desperate when they had left my office the previous week. And...the time between that fateful meeting and this appointment has seemed so vast and far away. But...I hoped that they would show.

Gazing at my computer, I wondered if I might risk delving into some of my neglected paperwork before this next meeting. But the decision was swiftly made for me with the paging of my desk phone.

 _'Doctor Kogara...your 2:30 appointment is here.'_ The disembodied female voice announced over my speakerphone as I glanced over at the clock hanging on my wall, noticing that this arrival came almost ten minutes earlier than I had expected. _'Shall I have them wait, Doctor?'_ This question came through my phone in response to my silence as my finger moved to press the direct line to the front desk.

"No." I murmured lightly to the air towards my phone. "You can send them in now. I'm ready."

I didn't have to wait long for the one who entered my office. And again I was met with that soft spoken, cautious demeanor as she stepped through the threshold of my office. Yet...this time...her attire was darker. Black and more somber, like the clothing she had worn when I had first met her.

And I was concerned.

"Yuki." I murmured this alias she had offered me in hopes of building trust with the doubter, and saw how her expression reflected a level of approval towards this greeting of mine.

Though I still held reservation over this claimed identity of hers. I couldn't quite make heads or tails of its purpose. Was her claim driven by delusions that she was truly someone else...like those claiming to be the Queen of England? Or was it that she was merely trying to reconstruct her identity and create a new persona? But...in the end...I knew one thing for certain. Despite the function of this assumed identity of hers, I couldn't even hope to begin addressing this detail of Akito's persona until I built a much needed bridge of trust and rapport.

"Welcome." This came soothing and measured from my lips, bearing witness to the same timid, watchful behavior as dark black orbs once again roamed my office for an unseen threat. "I'm glad that you came back." With this, the woman gave a small nod of acknowledgment to my words before once again claiming a seat close to my door.

"Thank you for seeing me, Doctor Kogara." She whispered in that same timid, soft spoken lilt.

"Shall we pick up where we left off?" I asked, allowing her some control of this session as she gave a small bob of her head.

"So, I thought over what you had told me." I murmured this as I watched those black orbs drift from my face to the wall. "About your encounter with the man in your bed." Those eyes fell to the floor as I attempted to navigate this discussion as delicately as possible. "Does that happen often?" Her obsidian gaze shot from the floor of my office to my face accusingly as I continued along my train of thought. "I mean time laps and memory loss." I clarified my question as her taut features relaxed some. "Do you find it difficult to remember things that have happened to you?" And I watched as she seemed to genuinely consider this question for a moment.

"Sometimes." This concession came lightly murmured through delicate lips as she continued to avoid my gaze. "Sometimes...strangers come up to me, claiming that they know me. But I _swear_ I've never met them before." She whispered in contemplation. "But...I've never been terribly great with names or faces...so that's normal, right?" The soft tremble of her lip met these words. "...right...?"

I parted my lips to speak, but before I could offer consolation and validation, she began again, though her haunted gaze continued to linger along the floor of my office.

"And though what happened..." Her soft spoken voice faltered a moment over these words. "...last week..." This helpless whisper elicited another quiver of delicate lips as she gave the swift jerk of her head to shake this terrible memory away. "That's the worst it's ever been. But there have been other times." Her tone came weak and desperate, laced in anxiety and concern over these thoughts. "That wasn't the first time that I've woken up in a strange situation with no memory of how it happened."

I took my time in absorbing her words. Turning them over in my mind. Making sense of them, because when I had discharged her from the trauma ward she had seemed so unconcerned over this lap of memory. My eyes drifted along the endless books and aids at my disposal on the multitude of shelves in my office. Surely there was something here that I could offer to this woman. A tool or technique I could utilize in supporting both of us in piecing together this mystery puzzle of clouded memories and buried secrets.

And there was one thing that came to me.

One thing that might help shed clarity on this enigma. This puzzle.

But...it was risky, and would require the patient's full willingness and cooperation with me.

"Tell me..." I murmured lightly in thought, my gaze drawing away from the shelves of my office. "Have you ever heard of mindfulness based cognitive therapy?" Those dark orbs finally lifted from the floor of my office as the woman gave the small cant of her head. "Guided meditation?" I clarified as her expression remained lifeless to these terms. "It's a therapeutic tool where I coach you into a relaxed, meditative state then support and guide you in discovering and mapping these repressed or lost memories." And I watched as awareness and understanding seemed to flood those haunted black orbs.

"Hypnosis?" She questioned dubiously, and I gave an almost regrettable sigh to her obvious hesitation and cleverness at discerning these academic terms.

"Yes." I gave confirmation to this inquiry.

"You want to make me cluck like a chicken?" This irked question came softly spoken through a delicate scowl and sour purse of the lips, and I had to work at stiflingly the small twitch of a smile threatening to lift the corner of my lips.

"No." I murmured lightly through the gentle shake of my head. "Not at all." This came a genuine rejection of a most unfortunate characterization and misuse of this potentially useful therapeutic tool. "But I think that this will be a quick and effective way of piecing together your missing memories." And I watched that dark, haunted gaze consider this.

"And you think that would help?" She asked hesitantly through a soft tremble of her lips. "Digging up these lost memories and missing moments of my life?"

"I do." I confirmed through a steady and comfortingly measured tone.

"And what if these moments of my life are terrible? And dark?" She questioned through furrowed brows. "What if there are things I don't _want_ to remember?" This came through an agonized whispered breath. "That I _shouldn't_ remember?"

And I knew then that I needed to be brutally honest with her. In order to gain her trust and have her full cooperation if she chose to continue on this path and take my offer.

"Most often..." I murmured professionally through a detached, stoic tone of voice. "...the memories recovered in these types of sessions are often traumatic." This did little to comfort the young woman as I continued. "But I have had personal success in utilizing this technique, and the patients who went through this memory recovery process were far more stable and well rounded once they were finally able to give a name to their unnamed demons and monsters."

"So you've met others?" She asked, slightly taken aback. "Others like me? People who can't remember certain events?" And I gave the small nod of my head.

"I work with trauma patients." I confirmed, watching a fleeting, short lived expression of elation and relief cross her pallid features at the idea that she was not alone. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder often results in the victim of a traumatic event suffering amnesia surrounding the event in question." This came a soft, almost comforting lull from my lips. "These episodes of amnesia often cause a great deal of stress and anxiety over the nameless unknown."

"You can't fight a monster you can't name..." She whispered somberly. "...is that it?" This came softly lilted though growing consideration towards this technique as I gave a nod of concession to this thought process.

"In a manner of speaking." I murmured evenly. "Yes."

"And what if this monster is more than I can handle?" She asked, fearful hesitation lingering in her dark orbs as she held my gaze. "...once I know what it is..." And I gave myself over to a small sigh towards this legitimate concern of hers.

"The repressed memories we recover may be very painful for you." I whispered this caution lightly through the quiet of my office. "But once identified, I can help you process and make sense of them." My voice came as gentle and comforting as I could manage through my professional demeanor. "We will work through them together." I promised. "You're not alone in this." And the lightest lift of delicate lips indicated that the young woman seemed to gain comfort from my words as I once again watched that poised and proper, but almost rigid posture finally relax.

"So..." Delicate hands came aimlessly lifted before primly landing laced in her lap. "Where do we begin?" And I gave a calm, professional smile to this with the nod of my head that I was pleased that she had finally decided that she was willing to participate in this endeavor.

"Please." I coaxed in a measured tone, my fingers slayed to the sofa lining the wall of my office. "Make yourself comfortable." This caused the small, dubious tilt of her head.

"What...?" The young woman whispered along the furrow of her brows. "Like...lay down?" She questioned as I gave a small, unassuming shrug.

"If that would make you feel more comfortable." I conceded as I watched her lithe, thin frame rise from the chair she had claimed.

Those dark black orbs scrutinized the sofa with some hesitation. Regarding it with prejudice. Silently drifting towards this unassuming piece of furniture in agonizingly slow movements, I allowed her the time she seemed to need in order to make herself comfortable with the idea. In a small act of trust, the young woman gracefully sank herself to the sofa before almost awkwardly reclining her slender figure along its surface as thick black lashes fluttered closed. A sharp, jagged inhalation parted delicate lips as she attempted to release the breath calmly from her nose as I found myself unintentionally breathing with her before her lashes fluttered open once more.

"I'm sorry, Doctor." She murmured lightly as those obsidian eyes flitted from the ceiling of my office to my face. "But this just isn't working." And I gave myself over to a small, unobtrusive chuckle of understanding and side smile of approval towards her efforts.

"That's okay." I murmured lightly as she sat herself in that same poised, rigid fashion. "Whatever makes you feel most comfortable." She gave the small bob of her head before silently slipping off her shoes to draw her legs up to her chest as her feet came to rest on the sofa.

Spindly arms came to wrap themselves almost protectively around her shins as she drew her legs closer, her delicate chin coming to rest along her knees as those haunted orbs stared at me. I had to concede that the fetal position this woman had just assumed _was_ far less rigid than her previously poised, alert demeanor. But...it also was indicative of an almost dangerously fragile psyche. And I knew that I needed to approach this session of guided meditation very carefully.

"Are you ready?" I murmured lightly, and the woman gave a small nod along her knees. "Okay, close your eyes." This came coached through a tone of gentle authority and professionalism, and the woman did as I had directed.

"Please don't make me cluck like a chicken, Doctor." This came weakly whispered through her lips as I gave myself over to another smile.

"I won't." I assured her as she gave a small sign of apprehension laced in resignation.

"Take a deep breath." I gently directed in a measured tone. "Now release it...slowly." As she did so, I continued to coach her through this process of meditative relaxation. "Focus on the air leaving your lungs, drawing you into a deep state of relaxed calm." I worked to support her in pacing herself as the first cleansing breath was released.

"How are you feeling?" I murmured lightly as her soft spoken voice manifested lightly through pale lips.

"Fine, Doctor."

"Good." I spoke encouragingly. "Now take another deep breath. Releasing it slowly." And the young woman did as directed. "Listen to my voice and let it draw you into a calm, relaxed state." The muscled of her delicate, pallid features began to smooth over like white porcelain as her face came almost doll like in this peaceful state. "As you drift further into relaxation, you'll stay fully aware and responsive to my voice." I murmured calmly through my professional tone.

"Yes, Doctor." This came a drowsy sigh from her lips.

"Take another deep breath, releasing it slowly as you feel your body become lighter and more relaxed." This came soothingly repeated in the quiet calm of my office as she gave a final, peaceful sigh. "Three...two...one." Her hands came laxed and slumped from her shins to either side of her, palm up revealing the brutal self inflicted scars on her wrists.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered through the silence and even pace of her calm breathing.

"We..." This came whispered almost lifelessly from pallid lips and the flutter of dark lashes. "...are doing just fine. Thank you very much for asking, Doctor." I gave the helplessly confused cant of my head towards the haunted echo of the cynic.

"Yuki...?" I questioned lightly through the furrow of my brow. "Can you hear me?" And the infinitesimal tug of those lips manifested towards my mild befuddlement.

"Yes, Doctor." She whispered in that strange, monotonously detached tone. "He is present with us, too." This confirmation came slow and paced in a slightly deeper, almost lethargic drag. "He hears you."

"Am I speaking with him now?" I questioned, marveling at this bizarre and somewhat unexpected display.

"...no..." This came breathed through lifeless lips and that unsettling voice.

"Then...who am I speaking with?" I queried lightly as this question came swallowed up in the timeless lull that followed.

"We..." The woman's voice came in a wistful breath. "...are the memory keeper." She addressed herself, giving pause before continuing to speak. "We bare the thoughts of the collective."

"The collective?" I gave the cant of my head to this as I witnessed another slight lift of her lips.

"Yes, Doctor." This came monotonous in confirmation. "We are." She spoke definitively through that strange lull. "All of us..." These words came breathed through those delicate, pale lips. "We are...all of us...present, Doctor." The woman murmured lightly through a lethargic sigh. "And...we hear you."

I was confounded by this. Truly. I was uncertain as to what this could mean, and the natural following question fell from my lips unbeckoned.

"How many of you _are_ there...?" And I watched as her body seemed to grow almost frighteningly slack and unresponsive to this question.

 _How many_...?

This floated through the silence.

 _How many_...?

And a long, sad, breathless sign came from her delicate nose followed by deafening silence as this young woman refused to respond.

 _How many_...?

This silence was all consuming as it wrapped itself around me. Stifling...as I waited for her response. Wondering _if_ she would respond. That body on the couch had grown so still. So terrifyingly still...as I waited. And it was in this stillness that my gaze was drawn to the sudden, slowed movement of her right hand. Just her right hand, as it lifted from the sofa and turned palm down, slender fingers slayed along its surface. And I was drawn to this movement as I bared silent witness to something I had never seen before. Something I had never encountered. And then...her index finger began to slowly rise and fall in a rhythmic motion as she began to tap along the sofa cushion as if voicelessly responding in morse code.

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

I began to track her slender finger, breathlessly counting out these movements in order to discern their meaning.

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

I continued counting, making a mental note of her finger's movements as I determined to document this unexpected response to my question.

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

 _Tap._

This silent tapping along the sofa cushion continued slowly as my gaze continued to follow. Silently keeping count and watching for a discernible pattern. But then her finger faltered. Hesitated in continuing. Held erect and suspended, as if she were deliberating with herself before the finger landed silently along the cushion once more. Only once more, before it was laid at rest and stillness consumed her. And I was left stunned in the wake of her stillness, and the response I had just been given.

Thirteen.

The answer to my question...was thirteen.


	7. Occam's Razor

"Dissociative _what_?"

"Dissociative Personality Disorder."

" _What_?" Satoshi's brow furrowed even further under the heavy weight of this diagnosis I had just handed to him as he took another hard swallow of the drink in his hand.

I had to admit...he wasn't the only one baffled by this. I had just spent the last hour telling him exactly what had happened. Going over it again again in my mind before having met up with him. And I myself still couldn't quite come to terms with the label I had just uttered. I gave the small shake of my head as I followed Satoshi's lead, taking a smaller sip of my own drink as we sat at the bar together. After today, I knew that I had desperately needed an outlet to voice my thoughts. My concerns.

After today, I knew that I had needed a friend.

And I found myself grateful that Satoshi had had the night off.

The events of this afternoon continued to swirl around my mind. Confusing my thoughts. The despondent, heartbroken doubter...Yuki Sohma. The hardened, bitter cynic...now self identified as The Memory Keeper. The hysteric and cheerful effervescent...both having made a strangely powerful and immediate connection with the sweet, caring Tohru Honda. All of these pieces. All of them...had been thrown about and scattered in my office with this afternoon's session with Akito Sohma.

After I had roused the young woman from our first session of guided meditation, I was almost revealed to witness the reemergence of the doubter. But when she took stalk of my grim expression of concern, I saw her rigid, stick like figure overtaken and overwhelmed by anxiety.

At first, Yuki had begun to make fairly coherent demands to know what had happened during the session when _he_ had been under hypnosis. I had wanted the doubter to regain a level of calm before I spoke of the details of this session. I had wanted Yuki to be fully aware and mentally capable of safely taking in and absorbing what I was about to say. But the more I attempted to sooth and redirect the conversation, the more anxious the doubter became.

...until I found that I was no longer entertaining the doubter, but the hysteric...

It had happened so suddenly. So quickly that, for a moment, I hadn't noticed the subtle change. Hadn't registered the shift in temperament. Until it was far too late, and the fragile, timid doubter sitting on my couch burst into tears and wailing lamentations. The young woman in my office was no longer responsive to consolation and comfort. No longer coherent or rational. At one point I doubted that she even knew that I was present with her as I watched her descend into a downward spiral of panic and hysteria.

When she began to bang her head against the wall, hurting herself in the process, I was forced to make the decision to have her sedated. An unsavory choice I hadn't wanted to make. Two hours of bed rest, and soon after the patient regained consciousness and was able to see reason, I stepped into Akito Sohma's room to navigate a frank discussion about the woman's options.

I stepped out of that room with a signed consent for voluntary hospitalization, revealed when she so readily agreed before I had the opportunity to breath the notion of involuntary psychiatric hospitalization. A forced stay. Back to where we had started, with this fragile young woman in the hospital where our paths had first crossed, it felt like such a failure on my part.

"So what exactly is this..."

"Dissociative Personality Disorder." I murmured to fill the small pause, finishing my friend's question as he gave a swift nod.

"Yeah. That." Satoshi uttered lowly. "What is it? I've never heard of that diagnosis before." A nod of my own came in response to this statement.

"It's a new term for an old disorder." I conceded.

I doubted that he would have known of this remastered term for something I never thought I would have seen in my lifetime. Honestly...up until this very moment I had thought it a myth. A nonexistent phantom disorder made up of statistical criteria that could _always_ be better explained by another diagnosis. Always...

...but then I met Akito Sohma...

A breathless sigh escaped my lips before they were taken over with the last of my drink.

"It _use_ to be termed Multiple Personality Disorder." I murmured, not needing to see my friend's expression to know that he was all _too_ aware of _this_ name.

This was only solidified by the silence that ensued, surrounding the two of us as my mind wrapped itself around what I had read in the text book I had taken from my shelf as soon as the young woman had been sedated and removed from my office. I sat with the litany of symptoms and criteria coming to flesh the diagnosis I still didn't want to accept. But each one was simply another nail in the coffin of something I simply couldn't deny or brush off to the side.

Each one quietly whispered Akito's name from the pages of my diagnostic manual.

 _-Two or more distinct personalities exist in one individual; one personality [usually referred to as an alter] is always present._

 _-Dissociative amnesia including gaps in the recall of important personal information and everyday events._

 _-Severe distress and impairment in function because of the disorder._

 _-The disturbance is not part of normal cultural or religious practices._

 _-The disturbance can't be explained but substance use or another medical condition._

And then there was the myriad of compelling literature I had managed to lose myself in this afternoon. The various articles and studies of unquestionable validity I had read seemed an echo of the haunting whisper that infiltrated my mind, sending its tendrils to wrap around and quell what little doubt I still clung to.

 _ **People with DID often also suffer from borderline personality disorder characteristics, somatization disorder (physical symptoms without cause), major depression, posttraumatic stress disorder and suicide attempts.**_

 _ **The signs of dissociative identify disorder include a number of characteristics regarding the multiple personalities including:**_

 _-The personalities are discrepant (disagreeing) and often opposite._

 _-Each personality is well-ingrained with its own memories, behavioral patterns and social relationships that govern its behavior._

 _-Transition from one personality to another is often sudden and brought on by stress._

The more I read...the more I knew that I simply couldn't ignore or play this diagnosis off as irrelevant or coincidental. As much as I wanted to. Because...each symptom. Each criteria. Each word seemed to fit a puzzle that I had been struggling to piece together.

...until now...

As much as I had wanted to dismiss what I had found. Everything that I had found. It seemed that the more I objectively looked at this enigma, without bias, one thing seemed to ring true. And this truth was the scientific principle that, all things being equal, the simplest answer was usually the right one.

This diagnosis was my Occam's Razor.

"Multiple Personality Disorder..." I heard this echoed from Satoshi's lips as I felt him mull it over in his mind as I had, finishing what was left of his drink before speaking again. "So how did the kid take it when you told them?"

"I haven't." I murmured lowly with the shake of my head. "Not yet." And I saw the small nod of understanding from my friend out of my peripheral as I gave a small sigh. "I still want to make absolutely certain that I'm right." I murmured. "...before I tell her anything..."

"So what now, then?" I heard this whisper through the softer sounds swirling around us.

"She voluntarily admitted herself this afternoon." I murmured lightly. "Shortly after our first session."

...not that she had been given much of a choice...

"But I really don't know how long we can keep her. Or how long she'll want to stay." I begrudgingly admitted to Satoshi. "Since she willingly signed herself in..."

"I know." Satoshi murmured lightly, his voice grim along the thoughts we shared. "She has full right to leave." And I gave an unbeckoned nod to this.

"So when will you be seeing her?" He asked, turning towards me as I met his gaze.

"Tomorrow morning." I stated, this falling so matter-of-factly from my lips. "First thing." And I watched the infinitesimal shapings of concern etch themselves along Satoshi's face.

Maybe he had reason to worry...

Only time would tell. Time, and the light of a new day.

* * *

 **A/N: So...I hope that this chapter wasn't TOO entirely boring for you guys. Or too short, for that matter. But...as a note of interest...this was me...completely nerding out on you all. I simply love psychology. It's my cup of tea, and I find it simply fascinating. I don't anticipate any of the future chapters to be this technical, but I simply couldn't help myself. But if you enjoyed this as much as I did, feel free to talk nerdy to me. Pun and song reference totally intended.**

 **I hope that this chapter brings clarity to the story's plot, and what is going on.**

 **Credit given to the DSM V:** **Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5** **th** **Edition. Also www . healthyplace . com. Always remember to list your sources!**


	8. The 'Id'

"Good morning, Doctor Kogara." I heard this warm greeting as I passed the nurses station, offering one of my many proprietous waves in acknowledgement as I silently walked by and into the smaller area reserved for hospital staff.

Gathering my standard white coat and staff badge, I stepped to the small wash room in order to ready myself for this morning's duties. Donning my coat and clipping the badge to its fabric, I lightly flicked on the light and was greeted by my reflection in the small, square mirror suspended just above the sink. Pallid, lean features were only made more ashen and ghostly underneath the abrasive florescent lights. Grasping the sides of the sink with both hands as I felt my body lean forward for support, long slender fingers curling along the smooth, cool porcelain surface, I finally allowed myself the small whisper of a sigh. Only this...as dark, burnished eyes scrutinized further, taking in the slight rings of discoloration underneath as signs and evidence of my sleepless night. Not the first I'd had. Certainly not to be the last. Twisting the metallic handle I swiftly splashed my face with cool water to refresh myself in preparation for the day ahead.

...and for my first patient of the morning...

Making my way from the private wash room I was met with further greetings as I walked the halls towards my day's first destination.

Wondering...

Who would I be met with just beyond the door?

Last night's conversation with Satoshi had done little to quell this overwhelming apprehension settling itself inside my chest. I still didn't want to accept the blatant, glaring truth presented to me, no matter how it seemed to fit. I didn't want to accept that after endless...sleepless hours I still hadn't found a better answer than this.

A mind so horrifically fractured that it had actually managed to give birth to uniquely separate entities within a single individual.

Coming to the room in question, these dark thoughts swirling and clouding my mind, I was struck to find that the door was already open to me. Warm natural light from the window just beyond the threshold of the room streamed in soft rays through to blend and fade into the harsh, more abrasive light of the florescent lights of the hospital's hallway. A part of me felt relieved that the patient was already roused before my coming to speak with her. Grateful, even, that I would not have to be the one to wake her up. Lingering just outside of the room, another part of me felt entirely apprehensive. Because that same question still hung ominous and unanswered in this space lying between myself and the young woman inside.

Who would I be met with just beyond the door...?

Peering through the threshold of the door, momentarily staving off entering, I silently took stalk of the scene before me. The hospital bed was disheveled and empty. Gone away was the slender figure I had expected as I witnessed how the woman's delicate body now took up residence and occupied the chair set in the void between the bed and the window. Having turned herself away from the door to better face the window, all I could clearly see was the thin silhouette of her back and a head of almost comically disheveled inky black hair. That boyish mop hopelessly rumpled in sleep. Her slim body coming bathed and draped in the basic crème beige of an oversized hospital robe. And it seemed as though her shoulders moved infinitesimally as her head drooped down towards her lap.

I began to find myself given over to curiosity as to what she was up to.

Curling my fingers into a loose fist, I gave a swift knock on the threshold of the open room to announce my presence as I watched the young woman's head lift in awareness of my presence. Stillness overtook the form before twisting and contorting that thin body, curling herself in the chair in such a way as to angle herself towards me while staying firmly seated. I took notice of the cigarette lacing her lips, the soft curl of smoke coming to veil an expression quite blank and lifeless as she silently stared me down through those large, captivating black orbs. And I realized that this wasn't the face of Yuki, the fragile doubter. Nor was it the expression of the hysteric or cheerful, Germanic effervescent.

So...I had just walked in on the cold cynic. The Memory Keeper.

Though not the one who had demanded to know what had happened during our first session while under hypnosis, I had to admit that this was preferable to the unhinged panic and grief of the hysteric.

"Good morning." This greeting came lightly murmured from my lips through the silence consuming the room as she simply continued to gaze upon me, the cigarette dangling gracefully from her delicate lips. "How are we feeling today?" I asked, as I always did with this young woman.

Instead of answering my greeting with words, I watched as the young woman slowly stood herself from the chair she had been occupying as she placed something along the disheveled blankets of the empty bed. A notebook and pen...

She had been writing?

Easing her spindly body from the space between the bed and window, she languidly meandered towards me, her approach slow and unhurried on bared feet as those dark orbs continued to scrutinize me. Her movements came so fluid and graceful, the hospital robe hanging loosely from her slender frame giving her a strange air of royalty and prestige with the way she held herself. The cigarette finally plucked from her lips, she exhaled a thin whisper of smoke. With her mouth freed from its vice, the young woman's lips began to softly purse against the makings of an almost mischievous little smile before parting in an airy, whimsical voice.

"Say something else." She whispered this, taking in my somewhat baffled expression with a level of amusement.

"Pardon?"

"Say something else." This came in that same soft, whimsical lilt, her pallid features now holding a level of seriousness towards this request as she took another step towards me. "Please...?"

The two of us stared at each other. Holding each others gaze. Gauging each others expressions as I gave consideration to this strange request while the woman took another drag of her cigarette. Waiting for my response. As I lent myself over to a small sigh, my features professionally disciplined and just a bit cool, I gave a small nod of acquiesce to this woman's odd petition as that same mischievous pursing of the lips shaped her expression once more.

"I have to admit..." I began, watching those black depthless orbs veiled and lidded through thick lashes, the woman holding her cigarette erect and delicately poised between her fingers as she listened with her eyes closed. "I really don't understand what it is that you want from this." These words came murmured as I saw those thick black lashes flutter, that same strange smile playing along the corner of her delicate lips. "What it is..." My words came slowed in their pace as I spoke in a calm, trained tone. "...that you are looking for by asking this of me." This came just a bit baffled before I witnessed the woman's lashes flutter open, revealing that dark, enthralling gaze as the cigarette she clung to with spindly fingers came momentarily forgotten.

"It's you..." This came breathed through her lips that spread themselves into a wide smile of recognition.

"Excuse me?" I gave the small cant of my head, now completely befuddled as the young woman slowly sauntered just a bit closer to me.

Gazing up into my face with that smile of hers, a slender arm draped in the fabric of her oversized robe came comfortably and casually wrapped around her rib-cadge as she propped up the other to take a drag of her cigarette. The fabric of her poised arm tumbled down the length of her forearm to the crook of her elbow with this movement, revealing more pale flesh and the prominent scar running itself along the inside of her wrist. Those dark eyes came to scrutinize me further before she parted her lips to speak again.

"It's you" This came repeated lowly through an almost lascivious smile. "You're the one who called to us from the darkness."

"I did?" I murmured this question as smooth and calmly as I could, watching her pinch the end of her spent cigarette and pocket it in her robe to discard later as she gave a small nod to my words.

"Yes... You did." She murmured quietly through the playful smile along her lips as she crossed her arms casually around her chest, tucking her hands within the safety of her sleeves. "We were there." This came but a whisper. "And we heard you." Another step brought her closer to me as that dark onyx gaze scrutinized me further in contemplation, lingering over my features. "You look different from the sound of your voice, though." These words came paired with her continued appraisal of my appearance. "You're taller than we thought you'd be."

The way she spoke. Her words. They seemed so strangely like those echoed from The Memory Keeper. But...this woman before me now didn't seem at all like the hardened, evasive cynic.

Who was she, then...?

"Memory Keeper?" I murmured this name to test the waters, a stone's toss into the abyss as I watched the ripple effects of how this woman's expression shifted, dropping the cheeky smile along her lips.

"Hatori?" This name came breathed in a level of perplexity as I witnessed the woman taken slightly aback, her thin brows knitting together. "Not exactly." This came slightly bitter with the infinitesimal shake of her head, her expression soured some at having been mistaken.

"Then who might you be?" I queried as casually as I could, another mischievously wry smirk making its home along her lips.

"We're The Story Teller." She grinned. "Hatori's better, more charming half. The second of three." Her spindly arm came extended in offering towards me as she held my gaze. "But you can call us Shigure." The masculine name brushed past delicate, feminine lips...yet another masculine persona for this fragile young woman to hide herself behind...

I humored the woman before me as I briefly took her hand in greeting before slender, spindly arms came crossed and tucked within the sleeves of her robe once more.

"The second of three?" I questioned curiously as she gave a slow nod to my question, watching in amusement as I pondered over what this might mean.

Though not entirely substantiated as of yet, had I not just determined that there were thirteen personalities? Why had she just identified herself as the second of three? As this new piece was dangled before me, I continued to muse over how it fit into this puzzle. This enigma. Going over what I already knew, the haunting, cryptically evasive words of the hardened cynic came stirred from my memory. A faint, whispered echo through my mind.

 _'We bear the thoughts of the collective.'_

"The collective..." I unintentionally breathed this as I watched that smile spread and grow upon itself. "You have access to the others?" And the only response to this was lithe, jovial, chimelike laughter.

"You're very clever, Doctor." She chuckled in way of confirmation to my sudden revelation. "And if you've been chatting with Hatori, then it seems that our little secret is out." Her grin came playfully coy as she continued, seeming to quite enjoy herself. "And as for your question. Yes." She lilted in a supple tenor with the nod of her head. "We're aware of the others." The smirk tugged mischievously along her lips. "The silent majority." This title for the alleged personas seemed so snide, holding an undertone of dissent that I found...concerning.

"So you hear the others?" I murmured slowly, gauging the young woman's response to this question. "The silent majority."

"Yes." She quipped, her tone almost sharply terse in veils irritation.

"Know their thoughts?" I asked, watching as she gave a silent nod.

My brows furrowed to this. Everything I had read and researched on this matter had led me to believe that these personalities, or alters, were wholly separated and compartmentalized. Unaware and unable to access the others when present. And this had seemed to fit with what I had personally observed from Akito...with her reports of memory loss and confusion, and the inevitable distress that this caused. Yet here I stood, in the presence of yet another, different side of this young woman claiming full awareness of the situation at hand.

I hadn't been prepared for this. The idea that there would be the presences of a persona fully aware of this young woman's condition. And I suddenly felt myself serendipitously graced with an opportunity to collaborate with this young woman in a way I hadn't anticipated.

"Then work with me." This came pulled from my lips as I held her dark obsidian gaze, toying with the hopeful idea of the compliance and cooperation of one who could reveal so much of this puzzle standing before me. "Help me treat you."

"Help you?" She barked a laugh. " _Help_ you?!" Her words stumbled along the laughter that swallowed them up as an almost snide grin came plastered along her features. "How?" The young woman's expression came a mixture of perplexed amusement. "By revealing all of our deep, dark secrets to you?" She scoffed sardonically from delicate lips as she took pause, falling into quiet for a moment before her voice manifested in the lightest of whispers. "Do _you_ have secrets, Doctor?" She questioned, her gaze holding locked with mine. "Secrets that you would want to share with _us_?" I was momentarily stuck mute by this question as those captivating black orbs held my stare.

And in my silence, the woman smiled.

"That's what we thought..." With this the young woman turned away from me, sauntering her slender figure to the bed in victory as she unceremonious flopped along its surface.

"You know..." The woman mused, more to herself than me as she sprawled her lithe frame comfortably in the hospital bed. "...it's quite possible that we don't even know the answers to the questions you have." And I gave this some consideration before those eyes lifted through thick black lashes to meet my face once more. "What we _do_ know..." She murmured this lightly through delicate lips held in a seductive purse. "...is that we haven't been allowed to surface for a very... _very_ long time." And I watched as she brought up a hand to her face, tenderly nuzzling the supple flesh of the inside of her wrist with the flutter of her lashes before greeting me with a sweet smile and that intensely dark gaze. "How _did_ that happen, by the way?" She questioned lightly through that alluring lilt and the slight cant of her head. "What did you do?"

"Hypnosis." I answered this truth professionally, attempting to avoid the full force of this woman's scrutinizing gaze.

"Hypnosis?" Her brows furrowed and knitted together at this question. "Really?" And I gave a small nod of concession as a light smile manifested along her lips as she gave a passive hum. "Well...we hope we didn't say anything too terribly embarrassing." With this long, spindly fingers grasped the notebook and pen beside her as the young woman began to write again, ignoring my presence for her prose.

And just like that...I sensed that further discussion was ended and that the moment I had been granted had come and gone. With a small sigh, I began to ready myself to tend to other matters and duties.

"Leaving so soon...?" I heard that same lascivious purr, and turned only to be met with that intense, onyx stare and a coy little smile.

"I have other matters to tend to this morning." I offered this up to the young woman in a calm, soothing professional tone. "But you're scheduled to come see me in my office later this afternoon." And I watched as the woman beamed a cheeky grin in my direction.

"Excellent, Doctor." She trilled happily to this news. "We look forward to it."

"I'll send one of the staff to show you to my office for our session." I murmured lightly as I witnessed that smile along her lips spread and widen.

"Oh, please do!" The young woman practically squealed to herself as she continued to hold my gaze. "If you can, we'd like you to send Tohru-kun...if she's available, that is." This request came through a lustfully sensuous smirk and yet another little giggle.

"Nurse Honda?" I asked, a little perplexed that yet another of this woman's alleged personalities had become so fondly attached to the sweet girl.

"Yes." The woman addressing herself in the masculine, by the name of Shigure nodded emphatically, that dark gaze coming so intensely penetrating. "Tohru's very cute in a sweet sort of way." She mused in that seductive lilt as she continued. "She's so...how shall we say it?" The woman's words came coy and slightly playful along her lips. "By putting it into words we're afraid the nobility of it all would only be obscured."

"Nobility of what?" My brows furrowed slightly in an attempt to make some sense of what she was saying.

"You know..." She grinned at me. "...she's so spunky!" At this I fell silent, completely at loss for words as the young woman began to laugh jovially.

...at my expense, no less...

Wordlessly turning from my charge, I settled myself in for a long and arduous shift before silence consumed the room and that strange, sensual lilt met my hears once more.

"Doctor." The young woman called to me as I glanced over my shoulder towards her.

"Yes?"

"I have a question for you." She murmured seriously through thin, delicate lips.

"What is it?" I asked, my brows knitting together in mild concern.

"If one of us were to decide to kill ourselves..." Her words came grim in their severity, her gaze never deviating or shying away from my face and the response it held. "...would it be suicide...? ...or murder...?"

I pondered over this. Wrapping my mind around the question before the swift and sudden realization of its macabre connotation and meaning hit me full force. A terrible, snarky, ill attempt at black humor. And as disapproval and unamusement shaped my features, the woman began to laugh again, knowing that I had finally understood the joke at hand.

"That's quite inappropriate." I chided lightly as she continued to laugh. "And not at all funny." I added.

"Oh, but it is, Doctor." The woman trilled out in helpless giggles as I shook my head in further dissension.

"It's really not." I disagreed, watching as the woman's head tilted slightly to the ceiling, her eyes fluttering up and falling lidded, a softly pursed smile playing along her lips before they were overtaken by her delicate voice.

"Yuki's laughing..." This came lulled in amusement from lips held in a wry smile before her gaze fluttered open and returned to my face. "Hatori, not so much." She mused humorously with a slight tone of deprecation. "You two are similar that way." Her voice came lowly whispered. "Both so very serious." A lighter, almost tender smile crept along her delicate, doll like features.

"You know, Doctor...you should really consider laughing a little more." The woman murmured in that soft lilt. "They say that laughter is the best medicine, after all."

"I'm really not that kind of doctor." I responded coolly, turning away to finish my morning rounds as I heard the beginnings of chimelike laughter and the call of her voice.

"That's the spirit!" She laughed from her place on the bed as I took my leave of the room. "Humor suits you, Doctor!"

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 **A/N: For the first time in a while, I'm really not sure what to put up for an author's note. I am still so exceedingly grateful for the reviews and the favorites of this story. The love and support this piece has received truly warms my heart. I don't know what else to say! Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope that you have enjoyed this latest chapter!**


	9. Subversion With A Smile

_'Because of my objectives..._

 _...no matter what the obstacle will be..._

 _...no matter who I use..._

 _...even if the result will hurt someone..._

 _...it will be fine with me...'_

 _-Shigure Sohma-_

I watch for what seems like a timeless moment as pen outpaced the passage of the second hand. The one drumming a whispered tempo for the other. I found myself absorbed and somewhat strangely enthralled by this level of focus from the young woman now almost confidently perched on the couch of my office. Head down, gaze held gripped by the pages before her. Unrelenting in her writing as if the blank pages themselves demanded to be filled...despite the surroundings or presence of a captivated audience. And...I was hesitant to break this alter's concentration.

"Shigure..." My voice reluctantly stirred the silence that I had allowed to go on for more than ten minutes, the figure sitting in front of me seeming undeterred by my voice.

"...hm...?" This light hum of response was the only indication that this personality calling himself Shigure had heard me as he continued to concentrate his focus on the notebook placed along the top of thin, spindly crossed legs.

"Usually..." I lightly cleared my throat. "In these sessions I expect a level of reciprocal interaction."

"...oh...?" This came warm, yet passive in its disinterest as the slender body perched comfortably along the couch of my office continued to openly ignore my presence for the pen and pad that held such fascination.

"When I saw you this morning, you seemed quite eager for this session of ours." I spoke calmly through the softer, quiet atmosphere of my office. "I had assumed you were looking forward to speaking with me again."

"You seem to assume a lot of things...doctor." This came a pithy response trailed along the small makings of a smile and light, iconic purse of the lips as this new persona continued to scribble along the paper.

"Like what?" I ventured this question in hopes of opening the door to some form of dialogue.

"You assume that we're here to help you. Like you assume that we're somehow dissatisfied with our current... _situation._ "

"Aren't you?" I asked curiously with the slight furrow of my brow.

"Tell me something, doctor." Shigure's smooth tenor lightly filled the space, calm and unfettered as he continued to work along the empty pages of his notebook. "Do you think an ant is somehow distressed over its place in the colony?" This came softly mused through pale lips held in a small, delicate purse of consideration. "Or do you think that this ant doesn't give a second thought to its place among the many, and simply _is_?" This threw into contrast a concept that I had not yet entertained.

...that not all of this young woman's personalities would be as desperate for my help as Yuki had been...

And I began to wonder if maybe this alter's complete self-awareness somehow buffered him from the distress felt by some of the other personalities like Yuki and the tearful hysteric.

"I suppose I really wouldn't know." I offered this reply honestly. "But I can't imagine how disconcerting it must be for you to have to endure such a fractured existence." And to this, the slender figure gave the soft cluck of the tongue.

"There you go again, doctor..." This came quietly murmured through the pace and tempo of the pen and second hand. "Making another assumption."

"Then maybe you can answer something for me." My voice came calm through a tone of professionalism as I laced my hands in my lap, my gaze and full attention along the figure taking up residence on my couch. "Why are you so reluctant to work with me and participate in this process?" The purse of delicate lips was offered as silent acknowledgment to my question before those lips parted in a lithe, chimelike voice.

"Working and cooperating with you implies that we're actually on _your_ side..." These words came smooth and cryptic as my brow furrowed along my growing bewilderment and the slight cant of my head.

"I wasn't aware that there were _sides..."_ I murmured lightly to this strange statement as the almost natural question followed from my lips. "So who's side _are_ you on...?" This was met with an almost immediate, small breathless bubble of chuckled laughter from the one continuing to scribble in their place on the couch.

"We thought that would have been obvious to you by now, doctor." Shigure's melodic voice manifested in amusement as he gave the small dismayed shake of his head. "Maybe you're not as clever as we gave you credit for earlier..." This persona lifted his head to offer me a comically amused, cheeky grin at my expense as my expression gave way to the faintest makings of displeasure.

Though this young woman's current persona appeared _far_ more intact and aware than _any_ of the others...Yuki, the cheerful Germanic effervescent, or the grief stricken hysteric...they seemed less than interested in becoming involved in the treatment process. And they seemed even _more_ evasive than the hardened, bitter cynic ...Hatori The Memory Keeper. In fact...the more that I spoke to Shigure, the more I sensed that he somehow desired the opposite. To undermine any therapeutic service or supportive therapy I was willing to offer.

With Yuki, I had needed to be so very cautious. Careful...in the way I handled and spoke to him. Because Yuki had been so startlingly fragile, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking at any moment. So it had been imperative for me to take a more indirect, almost tender approach. And...in the end...it had been _Yuki_ who had sought me out and ultimately asked for my help.

But the one before me now was a completely different person. One that was confident. Self-assured. Unburdened. And _wholly_ uninterested in my assistance. And it was becoming clear to me that, if I wanted to be of _any_ help to Yuki, I needed to go through him. And in order to do _that_ , it seemed that I would be needing to change my approach entirely.

"Why are you here?" My voice came schooled, yet firm and direct as I witnessed the impact it had against this evasive personality.

"...pardon..?" Shigure gave the slight tilt of the head in mild confusion at my swift change in tactic.

"Do you understand that you're here voluntarily?" I asked, further baffling this newly discovered alter with a more straightforward, no-nonsense approach. "You know that you can leave here at any point..?"

"Yes." This came lithe through an air of confusion as I watched delicate, thin brows knit together in an attempt to discern my meaning and intent.

"So..." I murmured lightly as my gaze held those dark, depthless orbs. "Why are you here, Shigure..?" This came coolly repeated as, for the first time since entering my office, the notebook was closed and placed to the side.

"We fail to see why that would be a point of interest for you, doctor."

It was then that I knew... I had _just_ met this persona on his own level. Peaked his curiosity and sparked his fascination. And now...I had his undivided attention.

"Because you don't strike me as the type of person that would blindly waist his time if it weren't to his own benefit."

The room stilled for a moment, as if time itself had stopped in response to the blunt honesty of my answer. The young woman held herself perfectly motionless where she sat perched along the couch of my office. Black depthless orbs held my gaze as she slowly gave the slightest cant of her head. Her small, thin frame coming drowned in the fabric of her hospital garments and that robe. The whole of her flawless palled completion and thick disheveled mop of hair...and the way that she now held herself...came so very doll like.

"Well now..." This came murmured in a soft, whimsical hum of amusement and the attractive purse of delicate lips. "...that's one of your more curious assumptions, doctor."

"Is it?" I queried lightly as that licentious purse of the lips turned up in the small smirk of a smile. "Most people are often self-interested, naturally seeking out and fulfilling their own needs."

"No..." This came a whisper followed by the infinitesimal shake of the head. "Not that, doctor..." Shigure lilted through soft, lithe tones. "We concede that we are self-centered in our objectives." The young woman's voice strangely dropped with her gaze. "That is not an assumption. That is fact." I listened calmly, grateful that my abrupt tactics had managed in finally drawing Shigure out to open up to me and communicate. "What we find so curiously fascinating, doctor..." Shigure purred, those dark smoldering eyes lifting back to my face along with the furthering spread of that sensual smile. "...is that you see us as a man..."

This in itself was not surprising to me. I was already fully aware of this young woman's biological gender. But I was _also_ aware that...at least as far as Yuki was concerned...at _least_ one of this woman's alters clearly identified as male. And the way this personality presented themselves, along with the way they had so unabashedly spoken of Tohru, had led me to believe that this current persona was of the same persuasion.

Needless to say, I felt myself left just a bit perplexed by this latest statement.

"Really..." This came drawn forth from my lips, followed by the soft clearing of my throat as Shigure snorted out a small chortle of laughter over my veiled surprise and confusion.

"It seems we've just witnessed a classic example of what happens when one tends to assume." Shigure clucked and chuckles along these words as he spoke in an almost singsong tone. "We believe the technical term is being made an ass."

"Forgive me my mistake. Your name _is_ rather strong, though." I offered in slight protest to Shigure's open mocking of my social faux pas.

"Mm..." Shigure hummed lightly in amusement, tucking small delicate hands into the safety of the sleeves of his hospital robe. "Isn't it, though?" This came through the light purse of those lips in consideration to this. "We were quite taken with it ourselves when we happened to stumble across it in a book we were reading."

"You named yourself, then?" I asked, somewhat fascinated at this persona's development of autonomous self-identity.

"Yes." Shigure spoke with a level of pride towards this, offering a charismatic, winning smile. "Though...it's not really a name, per say... Is it?" The slender form swimming in over-sized fabric mused to themselves. "It's more of a description, really." They conceded, continuing to prattle on as I gave a small nod to this.

"It refers to a light drizzle or rain shower in late fall or early winter..?" I ventured this in hopes of building some much needed rapport as Shigure gave a light bob of the head.

"Very good, doctor." Shigure spoke approvingly through the simper of a smile. "It has an ethereal air of mystery about it, don't you think? Much like ourselves, in a way." This came light through a chime-like chortle of laughter. "And...interestingly enough...just like ourselves..." These words came soft through delicately pursed lips. "...it is neither masculine _nor_ feminine." Another chuckle followed as I gave the light cant of my head. "You see, _doctor_..." My title came almost sharply pronounced through those tantalizing lips. "We _have_ no gender designation."

I slowly sat myself back in my office chair. I had to allow myself a small pause of consideration to really absorb this. To truly comprehend yet another piece of this puzzle that seemed to throw into question everything I thought I had known about this young woman. This ever unfolding enigma sitting before me.

"You don't..?" I questioned in a calm, schooled tone as I added this latest revelation to my ever growing list.

"No." Shigure gave the faintest shake of his head with that ever present smirk of a smile. "We don't technically have an age, either." This came murmured lightly through the space of my office. "These things were deemed... _unnecessary._ "

"Unnecessary for what?" This question flowed naturally from my lips in curiosity as I witnessed Shigure's expression fall flat with the slight cant of the head.

"Why...for our existence, of course." This came murmured from the young woman's lips as if it should have been completely obvious to me. "To fulfill our sole purpose for being."

"...which is..?" My brows furrowed slightly with this revelation as Shigure simply smiled at me.

"To dwell among the stars and go round and round the sun." This came fantastical in its whimsical strangeness as I watched Shigure openly relish my confusion.

"You really _don't_ understand what you're getting yourself into, do you, doctor..?" Shigure chuckled through that ever present smile and a lithe voice that always seemed just on the verge of giving way to laughter.

With the light shake of my head, I conceded to this fact. The fact that Shigure was right. Clearly, I had no idea what I was up against. A conundrum this persona was more than happy to point out to me. One, it seemed, that they had no intention of helping me solve. Content at simply watching me stumble and fall.

"So you want to know why we're here?" This came whispered through delicate lips, laced in a level of seriousness.

As my gaze drew up to intense dark black orbs, I was met with an expression that was just as stoic as the words that had drawn my attention.

"Despite what you may think, doctor," Shigure murmured through that soft singsong voice. "we happen to be quite fond of you." The light cant of the head followed as delicate lips lifted into the makings of a small, almost kindly smile before Shigure reclaimed the forgotten notepad. "You seem kind. And your intentions noble." These words followed the soft whisper of pen against paper as Shigure began to fill the empty pages of the notebook once more. "But unlike Yuki..." This came in a light hum as Shigure continued. "...we just don't have much faith in your ability to save us."

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 **A/N: You can always count on Shigure to make things completely awkward.**

 **Thank you to all who have supported this strange story thus far! You guys are amazing!**

 **And, finally, here is to wishing you all a most joyful and blessed Christmas! Until next time!**


	10. Hostile Takeover

**A/N:**

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Since Shigure's appearance and manifestation a little over a week ago, I hadn't seen any of the young woman's other personas. Yuki. The Memory Keeper, Hatori. The Germanic, effervescent free spirit. Or even the hysteric. None of them had surfaced since Shigure's arrival. And it was beginning to concern me. The way this particular personality clung so tightly to the forefront of the woman's consciousness was truly alarming, and reminiscent of some form of malevolent possession. As if this entity were actively and quite violently fighting against relinquishing control of the young woman's body. And matters weren't helped by the fact that this particular persona had continued to work against me throughout the week, refusing to productively participate in our sessions or accept my many attempts at therapeutic interventions. In the week that had followed, Shigure had declined continued hypnosis and mindfulness-based cognitive therapy to delve into the root of this woman's condition.

But, on the surface, this newly assumed identity's demeanor was quite likable and charismatic. Jovial. Impishly playful, even, sometimes. But this naturally sociable disposition, and Shigure's easy smile, had slowly become more Machiavellian in nature. This personality had begun to systematically target and manipulate some of the staff into gifting them with miscellaneous items, such as cigarettes and a multitude of wristbands from the various sections of the hospital they frequently wandered off to visit. Hospital bands that now decorated and showcased the almost bone-like thinness of this young woman's scarred wrists. And Shigure proudly sported them as one who had recently spent a weekend of youthful reckless abandon in one of Tokyo's popular party districts. As if this woman were merely a normal young adult with an active, healthy social life, instead of someone who had just been willingly hospitalized due to her erratic and dangerously self destructive behaviors.

As the days passed, I helplessly watched this persona flaunt the young woman's dwindling energy with grace. How they wore the bags under her dark obsidian eyes with a provocative allure as one would wear designer makeup. And the young woman's thin frailty was displayed in the form of regal elegance and slenderness with the way this personality insisted on clothing themselves in our hospital robes. Donning them like they were some of the finest crafted silk kimonos. But, as the days passed, I noticed how cracks of weakness had begun to form along the edges of this persona's facade.

The young woman looked completely exhausted. Run down, and disheveled. Almost alarmingly so. Her already pallid complexion was almost sickly pale now with the darkened circles beneath her eyes from lack of rest. The inky black, boyish mop of hair, too, was in complete disarray. As if this persona refused to groom, or perhaps no longer possessed the energy it required for self care. Even the young woman's hospital attire seemed somewhat rumpled as it came draped over her slender figure.

The young woman's rapid decline, and recent reports from the night staff, only gave me more cause for concerned.

"Shigure..." My voice came practiced in cool professionalism as I attempted to gain the young woman's attention.

The clock along my office wall gave a whispered testament to the passage of time as the woman remained unresponsive.

She had come for her afternoon session with me, and had quickly gone into an almost catatonic waking sleep when she had reclined herself on my office sofa. The one Yuki himself had been so cautious of. Yet this Shigure persona seemed more than comfortable in dropping their guard and relaxing themselves on this piece of furniture. Eyes lidded and somewhat veiled through her thick, black lashes as she sat in a semi-meditative state.

"Shigure." I spoke a little louder, and the young woman's lashes fluttered closed as a small sigh slipped through her delicate nose.

"Honestly, Doctor..." This came murmured in a slowed drawl as Shigure's brows came pulled together in a brief expression of discomfort. "Must you speak so loudly..?" Shigure grumbled, the tone of this persona's voice growing slightly soured towards me. "We heard you the first time."

"You seem a bit irritable today." I made this observation, jotting down a quick hand-written notation in the young woman's running file attached to my clipboard before regarding her with an astute eye from where I sat at my desk.

"Do we?" Shigure murmured in that lithe tone with an air of almost amused indifference to this statement.

I gave a small sigh to this persona's constant push back as the sound of my clock filled the momentary silence between us. This flippant, obstreperous, almost juvenile behavior was becoming increasingly prevalent within our sessions. And I found it difficult to make any amount of progress when presented with such a subversive personality. Within my work, it was nearly impossible to help someone who did not want it. But in the back of my mind, I held that fragile image of Yuki. A soul desperately in need of my help. One who had sought me out. I could still hear the vulnerability in Yuki's voice as he had implored me to _believe_ him. _Help_ him. And this made it all the more challenging for me to avoid making this personal. It was difficult, for me, to not feel a level of resentment towards this new identity that so blatantly worked against me.

"The night staff tell me that you refuse to sleep." I murmured lightly, though my voice came terse in revealing this news.

"Well." The woman's head lazily drifted back to rest along the back of the sofa as a small, wry little smile began to play along those lips. "That's not entirely true, now is it." Shigure sighed, and I knew what this clever personality was intimating as I gave an infinitesimal scowl of disapproval.

"Resting your eyes for only a handful of hours since having come here simply _cannot_ replace the quality sleep your body needs every night." And Shigure softly chuckled towards my scolding.

"Are we in trouble, Doctor?" This came asked in a coy, almost playful tone with the purse of the young woman's lips.

"Lack of sleep will only aggravate and worsen your condition." My response came cool and professional as I continued to stare at the listless form.

"Hm..." This came a passive hum through those pursed lips. "Our condition." This came quietly echoed back to me in Shigure's lithe voice. "You seem so very concerned about that, don't you, Doctor." Shigure mused. "Our condition..."

"I am your doctor." I said. "You are my patient." This came from my lips in a calm, measured tone in order to establish and draw a firm boundary between this identity and myself. "Of course I am interested in your well-being." And I saw how this statement finally caused the form draped along my sofa to rouse and stir.

Those pursed lips gave way to a small, licentious simper. One that blossomed and parted to bare a full, open smile as the woman's head finally lifted from the resting position along the sofa's backrest. And dark, thick black lashes fluttered open to reveal a riveting onyx gaze. Black depthless orbs made even more forebodingly enthralling with the heavy circles underneath as Shigure stared at me a moment before giving a small, curious tilt of the head.

"Is that the _only_ thing you're interested in? _Doctor_..?"

"That's quite inappropriate." I quickly chastised, and the young woman's impish smile only grew as Shigure let off a soft, stifled chuckle through provocatively pursed lips.

"Of course it was, Doctor." Shigure mused lightly through that lilted voice and a thoroughly amused expression. "But for you," Those eyes regarded me a moment, looking me up and down as Shigure spoke. "it was necessary." Shigure gave a small pause before a delicate hand briefly searched up one of the robe's sleeves as long bony fingers produced a slightly rumpled pack of cigarettes.

My lips drew together in a thin, taut line of disapproval as those slender fingers fished out a lighter stowed away within the pack, along with a single cigarette. Slow, graceful movements brought the offending object towards the young woman's lips.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." I said as small, delicate hands came paused in their task, one cupped over the end of the cigarette that dangled from the woman's lips as the other came poised with the lighter.

But my request seemed to do little in the way of swaying this persona from eventually lighting the cigarette anyway and taking a first, satisfying drag right in front of my eyes as they held my gaze in a challenge-stare.

"Come now, Doctor." This came playfully chiding through a breath of smoke as Shigure looked at me. "These happen to be a gift from Haruto." Shigure said, speaking the intimately familiar first name of one of the newer night staff. "He's a sweet kid." This came through a little, pursed-lipped smile. "We wouldn't want to hurt his feelings by not smoking them." Shigure said. "That would just be rude." And another brazen drag was taken off the cigarette as a sigh of smoke came through the woman's delicate nose.

"So you're fraternizing with my staff." I gave the lift of my brow. "When you _should_ be sleeping." I tacked this on with a pointed look to the young woman sitting before me as Shigure gave me a rebuking cluck of the tongue.

"We'd like to think of it as ' _being friendly_ ', rather than ' _fraternizing_ '." Shigure countered with a little smile before taking another almost pensive drag of the cigarette. "Fraternization has such a misconstrued connotation, don't you think, Doctor?" As Shigure held my gaze in a locked stare, I gave a small pause before speaking again.

"So..." I murmured lightly. "Tell me what else you've been doing in the evening hours?" I asked this question. "... _besides_ 'being friendly'." I added, genuinely curious as to what this persona was actually doing to so successfully ward off and evade sleep in the early morning hours when staff had reported them awake.

"We write, mostly." Shigure replied before a small delicate hand lifted towards lips as the back of Shigure's hand aided in stifling a small yawn.

"I've seen you with a notebook." I conceded with a small nod as I took in the woman's fatigued state. "What do you write?" I asked curiously in hopes of making some progress within this latest session.

The young woman held her cigarette poised between slender fingers as she stared off at nothing in particular. A ghostly blank expression along her face as if she hadn't quite registered my question before she finally gave a fluttered blink of the eyes.

"We're penning our memoirs." Shigure murmured lightly before taking a drag of the gifted cigarette that had been momentarily forgotten.

"So you want to be a writer?" I asked, making another dictation in the woman's file before my gaze lifted from the clipboard and those lips pursed together in my general direction.

"A novelist, Doctor." Shigure stoutly corrected me through a wisp of smoke. "A novelist."

"I hadn't realized that there was a difference." I admitted, and Shigure gave me a sardonic smirk.

"There is if you want to amount to anything in the literary world."

"And you do?" I asked as a passive hum came in response.

"Of course we do." Shigure scoffed through the smirk of a smile and a veil of smoke.

"That sounds like it must be quite the undertaking, then." I replied. "Writing your life story." And Shigure gave a chortle of smoke-puffed laughter through a delicate nose as the cigarette came gracefully poised between those bony fingers.

"Oh," Shigure purred through the whisper of smoke emitted through a delicate nose, leaning forward as the woman's chin came to rest in a small, delicate hand. "it should prove to be _quite_ a titillating tale of erotica you might find _particularly_ fascinating given your profession, Doctor." Shigure grinned.

"So you're choosing to document your sexual encounters?" I questioned with the small raise of a brow towards the open and somewhat scandalous indiscretion of this persona.

"Mm-nm." Shigure gave the playful, chiding cluck of the tongue and shake of the head as that smile curled just a bit further along the woman's lips. "You can't rush the details of this type of fine literature, Doctor. You really must wait for the novel to come out." Shigure grinned. "We'd hate to ruin it for you."

"I would have imagined romantic relationships to be a bit difficult for you to navigate." I responded, guiding the session as I chose to downplay Shigure's lewd, almost doggish behavior.

"Good _heavens_ no." Shigure chuckled, verbally waving away this notion with another casual drag of the cigarette before speaking again. "Why would you believe _that_ nonsense?" This came asked through a cloud of smoke and curious smoldering gaze. "That type of thinking...is called 'stupid'." Shigure chastised. "We happen to be _quite_ fond of casual affairs, Doctor." Shigure stated before the young woman's tone of voice began to turn somewhat dramatic and whimsically entertained with herself as Shigure spoke. "We imagine living on forever in the endless ballads sung in honor of our prowess from the lips of our many, grateful lovers." The young woman laughed as this was said. "That's quite good, no?" Shigure asked, taking a final drag of the cigarette before fingertips pinched off the spend end and it was quickly stowed away within the pocket of the woman's hospital robe. "We should remember to add that to the introduction of the novel, don't you think?"

"I think..." My words came slowed as I thought over how best to express what I wanted to say. "It would be difficult to find stability and meaning in relationships of that nature."

"Why?" This came tersely spat from Shigure's lips in a slightly petulant tone as the woman scowled at me. "Why _shouldn't_ we find meaning in these encounters? Because we are only _part_ of a whole? Because we're merely a _piece_ of the sum total? Should that fact somehow _diminish_ our desires? _Doctor_?" Those black, depthless orbs stared me down as Shigure said this. "When we see something beautiful, why _shouldn't_ we want it?" Shigure asked through the lowering of the young woman's voice. "Why _shouldn't_ we have it? _Own_ it? Take it over and possess it?" Those dark, mesmeric eyes intensely narrowed on me with the force and strength of this identity's avarice. "We _crave_ communion, Doctor. Unity. Oneness. We seek it out." Shigure revealed this mentality and desire as those eyes held me in a penetrating stare. "It is why we exist. Why we _are_."

"Why you are?" I asked, slightly perplexed as I took in the woman's mildly vexed expression.

"Honestly, Doctor." Shigure murmured this lowly as lashes fluttered closed and thin dark brows furrowed together in a show of mild irritation. "We thought you would have been able to grasp our nature by now. But it seems we keep overestimating your intelligence." This barb was an almost annoyed sigh as slender, skeletal fingertips began to gently massage the young woman's temple area.

"Are you suffering a headache?" I asked, lowering my voice to a quieter decibel as I took in the woman's pained demeanor.

"Something like that, yes." Shigure conceded in that lithe tenor as those eyes remained closed and brows pulled up and pinched together.

"I could prescribe a pain reveler." My eyes lowered to the clipboard in my hand to make another note in the woman's chart as I offered this before regarding the young woman again with an astute eye, and Shigure merely gave a deprecating, snorted scoff of amusement to this.

"We doubt that your pills would be much help in fixing what ails us, Doctor."

"Care to elaborate?" I asked curiously towards this odd decline, and watched as those lips pursed together when Shigure considered this question.

"No." The woman murmured from her perch on my couch as she made little effort to move her still, doll-like body. "Not really." Shigure said.

"Why not?" I asked in a professional capacity with the faint tilt of my head.

"It's personal." Shigure murmured, and when I remained silent to this response those eyes fluttered open to reveal a tired gaze. "The Silent Majority..." Shigure muttered with a small sigh, seeing that I wouldn't let this go.

"The Collective?" I questioned through a furrowed gaze at the way this persona had mentioned the woman's shared consciousness.

"Mm..." This came a passive hum from Shigure's lips as fingertips came gracefully raked through the disheveled boyish mop of hair upon the young woman's head. "They're _particularly_ vocal today."

"Is that common for you?" I asked curiously, feeling a little out of depth in gauging the normalcy of this statement.

"Usually..." The young woman sighed as she bit along her lower lip. "...the others... It's like a low hum." Dark lashes fluttered in though. "Or like a faint buzzing, or ringing in the ears." Shigure said with the small shake of the head. "Always there, but easily ignored. But lately, they've grown so loud. It's difficult to quiet them. Even now..." This came whispered through pale, bloodless lips. " _Especially_ Hatori." Shigure grumbled lightly.

"The Memory Keeper?" My voice came as baffled as my thoughts with the mention of a persona I had encountered through hypnosis, but hadn't seen surface in days.

"Mm." Shigure hummed lightly with the flutter of attractively thick lashes. "Tori's _very_ strong." The young woman's lips pursed together seductively with this sobriquet. "Stronger and louder than the rest. And right now..?" Those dark eyes finally fluttered opened to regard me, the woman's next words of warning coming long and drawn out through a small smile as she spoke. "Hari is _very_ angry." Shigure used yet another moniker for The Memory Keeper with a slight level of humor at my expense. "With _you_."

"Why would that be?" I asked in a calm, measured tone in an attempt to veil my surprise towards this news.

"Hari blames you, Doctor." Shigure murmured through that same oddly self-satisfied smile.

"For what?" I responded curiously, holding the woman's chart poised in my lap as I remained neutral and made no show of being offended by this statement.

Though beneath my professional calm I found myself feeling more than a little exhilarated at the thought that, for the first time since being faced with this evasive personally, I was on the verge of a breakthrough. That there was the possibility of progress. _Real_ progress. With the way Shigure had so suddenly opened up, finally speaking of the others, I was hopeful that I might be able to sway The Story Teller in cooperating with me. That Shigure could finally be convinced to work _with_ me, and not _against_ me.

"Shigure..." I repeated quietly in the wake of this woman's silence. "Why would The Memory Keeper be angry with me?" I asked as I found myself enveloped in the dark, galactic abyss of that onyx stare. "What does Hatori blame me for?" And Shigure offered me a truly unnerving smile before responding.

"For _us_ , Doctor Kogara. For _us_." This came lightly murmured through that startling smile. "Hari blames you for our reemergence from the darkness." Shigure said. "Through your little hypnosis trick." This came with the small, dramatic flutter of a hand as this persona held my gaze with those depthless orbs. "And now that we're back," This came through a soft chuckle. "we really have no inclination to leave." My lips thinned into a taut line with the way Shigure smiled at me.

"Is that why you refuse to rest?" I asked bluntly, watching how this entity's amused expression fell some with the attractive purse of the woman's lips towards my more direct approach.

"Perhaps you're not as imperceptive as we thought..." This came muttered with the lowering of her voice as she eyed me a moment, neither confirming or denying my suspicion. "And it seems like we've run out of time for today, no?" Shigure gave the lift of a brow to me as my eyes quickly glanced at the clock on the wall of my office. "These little talks of ours are so delightful that the time just seems to fly right on by, doesn't it? Like a deadline, hm?" Shigure said as thin bony fingers came to stroke the young woman's delicate chin. "Mm. We do so love deadlines." The young woman mused to herself through a suave, dashing smile. "We're incredibly fond of the _whooshing_ noise they make as they go by." This came through a light bubble of chuckled laughter as the woman gave the languid, almost feline-like stretch of her slender body before slowly rising from the couch. "Same time tomorrow, then, Doctor?" Shigure asked, those dark obsidian eyes regarding me intently as I replied with a stiff, wordless nod, and the woman gave another impish grin. "Excellent!"

As Shigure gracefully turned on spindly legs to face the door and depart my office, I was left with an awful sense of dread in the wake of this silence that followed. I began to harbor growing concern over the potentially self-destructive consequences of this persona's wanton avarice. Their voracious determination and strength of will. And the lengths they might go to in the fulfilling of their many objectives and desires. With the way this identity seemed to so desperately cling to the helm of this young woman's awareness, and the way Shigure so violently opposed relinquishing control or accepting my help, I felt that I had been drawn into yet another standstill. A dangerous stalemate. One where, as I was forced to endure waiting out my opponent, this young woman's very life hung precariously in the balance.

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 **A/N: Here are some quotes used in this chapter straight from Shigure's mouth, so to speak!**

 **"That type of thinking is called 'stupid'."**

 **"I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they go by."**

 **And the beginning description of Akito's appearance was inspired by the work of my dearest friend, Fandom Angst.**

" _Yuki nodded groggily, wondering. He examined Akito critically, seeing him clearly for the first time in a long time. He supposed he hadn't noticed before, in his befuddled state, and due to his seeing Akito every day, but now he noted he had definitely lost weight. Yuki knew Akito slept badly, had nightmares and sometimes had little appetite. With Akito, though, he wore the bags under his eyes as one would designer make up, displayed his thinness in the form of elegance and slenderness and channelled his anxiety through anger. In short, he thrived, putting on a splendid show to disguise his fear." -Fandom Angst "Back to Darkness: A Homecoming of Sorts"_

 **Also, with Shigure, I have been attempting to draw more on the darker, Machiavellian traits of selfishness and hurtful manipulation of the original manga character. This...is actually a bit tricky for me as I have never actually read the manga. So feel free to let me know how I'm doing with that. As a writer, constructive criticism is always welcome and extremely helpful.**


	11. Like A Tide

**A/N: Again, thank you to those of you who waited for me during my (almost) year long sabbatical from Fruits Basket. Continuing this feels very much like coming home.**

 **On a side note, I had to call in a favor from a very dear friend of mine. After consulting with them, and much thought, I have decided to use the below quote with some caution. When I had looked it up on an internet search (which, as we all know, is super reliable) it had been attributed to Shigure, and I had fallen in love with the quote. However, I am not sure at all if this is a quote from the character. But also know that it is not in any way mine, either. Thank you again, to StringInRepair, for your support and help with this quotation.**

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 _'If you have the skill to catch me..._

 _...then give me your best shot...'_

The next day came...

And passed.

Akito had missed her session with me. When I had confronted her with my concern over this, the woman's 'alter', Shigure, had assured me that this had been an honest mistake. And that it wouldn't happen again. Yet here I was. Again. Sitting in my office. And the young woman was now twenty minutes late to _this_ day's scheduled session with me.

I _could_ have requested that the young woman be brought to my office by one of the hospital staff. That would have been in my power to do so. But, I doubted that it would work to my advantage in quelling this evasive, troubling behavior. Ever since I had questioned Shigure's lack of sleep as a form of maintaining control over the young woman's waking awareness, it seemed as if this persona were avoiding me. Which made me wonder if I might just be on the right path in my assumption. And...if I was...it was crucial now, more than ever, that I try to maintained at least a cordial working relationship with this identity.

But, if I where to have been completely honest, I found myself just a bit frustrated in the face of the fleeting progress I had made with her during the last session. Because the small step forward taken when Shigure had finally opened up and mentioned the woman's other personalities was met with a large, violent step back. Away from me. It was as if this current persona were the physical embodiment of a tide. A tide that had the power to carry one away when they got too close to it. Like myself. I had felt the tide touch my feet... But the very _moment_ I had reached down to touch it, it had already departed. She had been within my reach, yet, it seemed as if I was destined to never catch her.

And the longer Shigure maintained hold of this woman's awareness, the more weary I became of the chase.

"...hey..." This voice came hesitant from just outside of my office as my gaze flitted away from the paperwork that riddled my desk to meet the one who had called my name.

"Satoshi." I murmured in greeting, my voice an exhausted, flat deadpan.

"You're door's open." He stated with the curious quirk of his brow.

"So it is." I sighed.

"Aren't you scheduled to be in session?" Satoshi asked, having passed the hospital's staffing whiteboard when he'd clocked in.

"I was..." I murmured quietly, looking away.

"Well, _that_ doesn't sound good." He quipped in a grim tone.

"It's not, actually." I responded honestly. "I was just on my was to search for my derelict client." And Satoshi let out a helpless snort at my expense.

"You _lost_ a patient?" He laughed, causing me to scowl slightly in his direction as I looked up from my seat.

"Not exactly." I muttered. "They seem to have taken to avoiding me." And my so-called friend smiled down at me.

"That's not very nice." He chuckled lightly with that smirk of a smile. "What did you do?"

"I think I may have stumbled onto something they didn't want me to find out." I sighed, and I saw a level of seriousness flicker behind Satoshi's more teasing demeanor.

"And they don't want to talk to you about it?" He asked.

"Since they missed yesterday's session, and are late today," I murmured lowly. "I would imagine that no. They don't." I admitted.

"Well _that's_ a bit of a problem." Satoshi agreed as I gave a small, wordless nod.

"Yeah." I acknowledge, looking up towards Satoshi. "It is." This came followed with the questioning lift of my brow from where I sat. "Walk with me?"

Satoshi gave me a nod, agreeing to aid me in my search without hesitation. I slowly rose from my seat, with an ache in my body and fatigue in my resolve, as we set ourselves with the task of looking for my patient. As we walked in tandem, slowly meandering our way down one hall after another, Satoshi casually began to ask me questions.

"So exactly which one of your clients is hiding from you?" He asked as my gaze scanned down the hall along the staff and patients.

"Sohma, Akito." I murmured the woman's name.

"Ah." Satoshi chuckled goodnaturedly. " _Her_." This came with a little side smile. "Interesting kid."

"Mm." I gave a little grumble of agreement. "You could say that." I said, my voice lowering a bit as I said this.

My eyes ever forward. Ever looking. Though my thoughts were far off and away as I continued to confide in my colleague. My friend.

"And her newest persona is running us _both_ ragged." I sighed as we turned down yet another hallway.

"Yuki?" Satoshi sounded a bit perplexed as he walked beside me, his keen intellect and prowess in being a quick study having allowed him to easily retain what I had already informed him of in regards to this particularly unusual case.

And I shook my head.

"Not exactly." I answered in a low drawl. "I haven't actually seen Yuki since the young woman agreed to have herself voluntarily hospitalized." And the way I had said this _must_ have caused Satoshi some concern.

"Then who are you dealing with in your sessions with the kid?" He asked.

"They told me that they are simply known as 'The Story Teller'," I shrugged lightly. "but prefer to be called Shigure."

"Shigure?" I felt his questioning gaze along me as we walked.

"A name they gave to themselves."

"Why?" His voice came a bit baffled as he asked this.

"They came across it in a book once, and had liked the way that it sounded." I replied to my friend's question before I offered a small, wordless shrug. "Or so they said..." I murmured quietly, almost to myself before I noticed the befuddled expression of my friend. "Hey." I muttered lowly to him. "You're the one who told me that she was 'my' kind of weird." And Satoshi gave the small shake of his head.

"Yeah." He grumbled with another baffled shake of the head. "So you keep reminding me." The two of us continued our search for the elusive young woman in silence before Satoshi asked yet another question. "So...what exactly was it you think you stumbled upon that they don't want to talk about?" He asked as my eyes maintained their forward stare, continuing to scan the areas just before me.

"The young woman refuses to sleep." I murmured lowly, my voice filled with concern over this matter.

"And?" Satoshi whispered in quiet anticipation.

"And," I replied with a brief pause of hesitation towards yet another working theory. "I'm beginning to think that it's this newest alter's way of maintaining control of the woman's consciousness."

"Why work against yourself like that?" Satoshi muttered under his breath. "That doesn't make _any_ sense."

"It makes _perfect_ sense, actually." I replied quietly in response as we continued our walk. "All things being equal, the simplest solution...no matter _how_ bizarre it may sound...is usually the correct one." I said somberly with the infinitesimal shake of my head. "Think about it, Satoshi." I continued in my thoughts as we turned another corridor of the hospital, the woman having yet to be found. "I express concern over the woman's lack of sleep. Then _directly_ confront this persona about the motivation behind their refusal to rest. And the very next day they begin to avoid me?" I gave my cohort a swift, dubious glance from my peripheral. "That, and I have yet to see them today." This came a discreet drop to a whisper from my lips as he and I passed a few of the hospital's staff. "Yesterday _might_ have been a laps in the woman's memory." I said. "But today? That doesn't exactly seem coincidental."

"You know I don't believe in coincidences, Shiro." Satoish muttered quietly.

"Neither do I." I admitted. "Which is why I want to circumvent this behavior before it gets worse."

I saw through my peripheral how Satoshi parted his lips to say something. But a moment's hesitation caused him to falter in his words as he closed his mouth again. As if he were uncertain how to go about voicing what was on his mind, which rarely happened for him, before deciding to start again.

"Have you thought about prescribing the kid a mild sedative to help them sleep?" He asked through the lowering of his voice towards the somewhat crude nature of this suggestion. "It would probably help her with her mental state to get some rest. That," He said with a small pause before he continued. "and maybe it would help in proving your theory about the motives of this new alter...or... _whatever_ you're calling this 'Shigure' character." Satoshi grumbled with the small shake of his head towards the whole idea of this young woman's somewhat outlandish psychological disorder. "I mean...if this kid sleeps. And a different personality ends up surfacing when she wakes up." He whispered lightly. "Then you'd be right about why the kid's not sleeping." He said with another little shrug. "Worse case scenario is that you're wrong, and the kid gets a good night's rest out of it." My colleague rationalized this idea of medicating my client for her own benefit as we turned another corner.

Satoshi fell silent a moment as we slowly strolled along, side by side, down another hallway before he glanced over at me to see what I had thought of this suggestion. And I silently regarded him in turn, finding myself in envy of his direct approach to the problem. As a medical physician, he was afforded the luxury of being able to focus solely on the needs of the human body. Proper nutrition. Water. Adequate rest. Repairing damaged bone and tissue, while undoubtedly arduous, required an almost simplistic, linear thought process.

...but repairing a damaged psyche..?

 _That_ took a completely different approach, where the most obvious and direct solutions to the problem were not necessarily the most beneficial to the patient's treatment and recovery. The invisible malady of a troubled mind couldn't be bound, wrapped, splinted, sutured, or remedied with sleep. And, if left untreated, the affliction of mental illness could often be _just_ as potentially life threatening as any bodily sickness or physical injury.

"Shiro..?" My name came whispered next to me, drawing me up from my train of thought.

And I couldn't help but offer the small shake of my head to the suggestion Satoshi had made.

"No." I murmured in reply. "Medicating her wouldn't work."

"Why not?" Satoshi asked.

"I already brought it up with her. Briefly. After our last session." I said.

"And?" He responded with the arc of his voice in breathless anticipation as I bit my lip towards the memory of this particular conversation with Shigure.

"She said, and I quote, 'we seriously doubt you're moral ethics would allow you to drug us by force, Doctor'." And I heard my colleague offer a sigh through his nose.

"Damn." Satoshi muttered in a low hiss. "She's smart, I'll give her that." He said. "And it sounds like she has you completely pegged."

"Mm." I gave a mumbled hum of a reply in agreement. "Satoshi..." I sighed as I looked to him from a sideways glance. "I can't _force_ this woman to participate in her own treatment." I said through veiled frustration. "And with the level of disinhibition this young woman is displaying right now? I don't know what she's capable of doing to herself or others. So I _can't_ in good conscience discharge her from the hospital as long as she's willing to stay in-patient." And from the expression of his face, I could tell that my friend understood the difficult situation I found myself in.

"Hey." Satoshi mumbled lowly as he broke the momentary, consoling silence he'd offered me. "I think that's your kid, right there." He said this as he gave the small, pointed thrust of his chin in a forward direction down the corridor we had just turned down.

As we slowed our pace, I saw the young woman several feet down the hallway in front of us. She appeared to be engaged in a thoroughly entertaining conversation with one of the younger hospital staff. A young man by the name of Asahi. A medical intern who couldn't have been any more than two or three years older than the woman herself. And the two of them stood in the hallway...

...chatting...

The young woman had leaned herself against the wall, her back to it as she faced the intern who stood in the middle of the corridor. One of her bare feet came casually propped against the wall, and she held a cigarette poised gracefully between her spindly fingers. Her other thin arm was wrapped comfortably around her slender torso as she spoke with him, the two looking very much as if they were conspiring together. Like two old schoolmates. The young man said something to her as she took a drag of the cigarette in her hand, and I couldn't hear exactly what it was that he had said. But, whatever it had been, it had made my client laugh. The substantive quality of it so genuine as its effervescent, chime-like sound floated down the hallway where Satoshi and I stood.

Though the sound of her laughter was something that could truly elevate the soul, I found that I was not at _all_ amused towards my client's overly friendly consorting with the hospital's staff. Most _especially_ in the light of the fact that she had also missed today's session with me. So I cleared my throat, loudly, in order to disrupt the conversation and gain their attention.

"Excuse me." I lifted my voice as it carried down the hall towards the young woman and the medical intern.

Asahi looked _quite_ surprised to see Satoshi and I, a guilty expression having shaped his features. But the woman, on the other hand. Her head languidly turned in our direction as she held what was left of her cigarette poised between her long, bony fingers. When she had regarded me through that wisp of smoke, our eyes meeting from across the distance that spanned between us, she gave me the iconic purse of her lips that I'd grown so familiar with in our sessions. The expression that shaped her lean, pale features was somewhere between deprecating amusement at my expense and juvenile contempt towards me at having interrupted her socialization.

Clearly, she wasn't thrilled at the fact that I had come looking for her.

The young woman turned her face away from me, taking a final, slowed drag of the spent cigarette as she merely continued her conversation with Asahi. Her words to the young man came soundless as they produced an alluring wisp of smoke from her moving lips, and Asahi now looked more than a little uncomfortable speaking with her. But he did anyway. That was, until I began to approach the two of them.

Having detected this movement from her peripheral, the young woman roughly brushed the end of the cigarette against the palm of her other hand to extinguish it before discarding the remains into the large pocket of her over-sized hospital robe. Quickly dusting her delicate hands together to wipe the ash away, the young woman offered the intern an intricate and somewhat comically involved handshake of farewell before she turned tail to make a hasty exit. The movement of her body and those slender legs had come so swiftly fluid and graceful underneath the enveloping fabric of her robe that, for a moment, I was almost certain that she was going to break out into a deer-like run down the hallway.

I paused in my pursuit of her then, somewhat taken aback by the sheer absurdity of the situation and the way this woman practically ran away from me. I gave pause towards the fact that this single act had so clearly revealed her intent to avoid me. So much so that even the young intern could see and understand that I was _not_ someone this young woman wished to see. That her snubbing of me had been completely intentional and filled with purpose. As I watched the young man awkwardly dismiss himself from this scene in the opposite direction down another hall, I felt Satoshi come to stand beside me as the two of us were once again left alone.

"Whoa..." I heard him hiss next to me as my eyes stayed forward-facing down the hall where my client had fled.

"Mm." I wordlessly mumbled in reply with the nod of my head.

"She just completely dodged you." He said quietly, no hint or trace of humor in his tone now at having seen this troubling behavior first hand.

"Yeah." I agreed. "She did."

As we stood together in silence over this revelation, I began to feel the full weight of this truly daunting task ahead of me. And...it wasn't so much that I didn't appreciate the challenge that this case presented. I did. But I wanted to know where I stood in terms of my client's progress. And this was nearly impossible to determine...when the ground beneath my feet continued to shift with every twist and turn this woman threw in my direction.

* * *

 **A/N: The quote below is from Yuki Sohma. And also, I feel, does really well in setting a tone for this chapter, which is why I had decided to incorporate it into Shiro's thoughts of The Memory Keeper, Akito's 'Shigure' persona.**

 _ **'It is said that he [Shigure] is like a "tide..." A tide that carries you away when you get too close to it. The tide touches your feet... But when you reach down to touch it, it will have already departed. It is within your reach, yet you may never catch it...'**_

 _ **-Yuki Sohma (talking to Tohru Honda about Shigure Sohma)**_


	12. Perpetrator

"Good evening, Doctor Kogara." I heard this warm feminine greeting, and acknowledged it with the silent nod of my head as I entered the nurse's station and prepared myself to clock in for the hospital's third shift.

The graveyard shift.

Having collected one of the white coats and donned it over my attire, I clipped my name badge to its fabric surface as I took an available clipboard before wordlessly exiting the nurses station. Yet, as I numbly went through the motions of preparing myself for the night shift, my mind was centered on one client. One in particular. Akito Sohma. By far the most challenging case I had come across in my profession. And, it disturbed me how wholly the unusual nature of her case seemed to dominate my thoughts. How she baffled and confounded me, leaving me at a complete and utter loss as how to help her. She was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.

And, even more troubling, was the fact that I found myself more than a little fascinated by her…

As I walked down the old familiar halls of the hospital and slowly made my way towards my office to begin my evening, something stopped me. Something I hadn't quite expected to see with the lateness of the evening hour. The one woman I found myself so preoccupied with as of late. And she wasn't alone. I found myself slightly taken aback by the unexpectedness of the current company she kept.

The woman towered just slightly over a head above the young adolescent girl that stood next to her. Another of my patients, Kaori Katsuko. The young girl who had been abused and drug addicted, and as a result had turned towards sexual predation in order to meet her needs and survive her traumatic circumstances. The two of them appeared to be loitering in the hall, quietly talking amongst themselves. Dark onyx eyes gazed down upon the impressionable fifteen year old as Kaori stared up in doe-eyed admiration towards her senpai. And the infatuated expression along her young face gave me pause for concern.

I didn't like the way they looked at each other. It seemed to spell trouble. Nor did I particularly like the idea of these two forming a bond _or_ seeking companionship in each others company. Though Kaori could be classified as a sexual predator of sorts, she was still a child. A rather vulnerable one, at that. One who had been repeatedly victimized by complete strangers _and_ those she should have been able to count on. To trust. And her inability to lay down and establish healthy boundaries for herself left her precariously susceptible to the more deviously manipulative nature of the nineteen year old woman's current alter, Shigure. With how cunning this woman's persona could be, I doubted that Kaori even realized that the object of her affection wasn't exactly who they seemed to be.

The woman's naturally androgynous appearance came off a bit more masculine with the way she loomed her added age and height over the young girl's more obvious femininity. The sheer mystery in her dark, swarthy looks. The deep abyss of those galactic orbs. The disheveled mess of her raven, boyish mop. All paired with the almost lunar pallor of her skin. These outward physical characteristics made Akito appear as if she very well _could_ have been an attractive young man. Someone I feared Kaori would find herself recklessly attracted to. And, if Kaori believed her to be a man, I suspected that this woman's current persona wouldn't necessarily feel obliged to correct the poor, misguided youth.

Knowing what I did of Shigure's self-serving nature, I imagined that they would merely play along with whatever Kaori assumed to be the truth.

Having gone unnoticed in my silent approach upon this scene, I was able to quietly observe these two interact with each other for a moment. And the more I saw, the less comfortable I became with their budding friendship. Long, spindly fingers loosely furled themselves as the woman lifted her hand to brush the back of her fingers along Kaori's blushed cheek before they slowly trailed the length of the girl's long side-braid. The woman tenderly grasped the end of Kaori's dark ebony braid and gave the dip of her head towards the bound lock of hair as she brought it up to her nose to inhale the girl's scent. She smelled the girl's hair with a delicate nose as if it were a fragrant bouquet of flowers.

And this flirtatious gesture. It made Kaori smile as she embodied a saddened image of the young innocence she no longer possessed.

"Kaori..." I softly uttered her name, and the end of her hair slipped through the woman's long spindly fingers to listlessly flop against her chest as she turned towards me with a look of surprise.

When the young girl looked at _me_...the woman continued to look at _her_. As if I hadn't said a word. As if I weren't even there. As if I didn't even exist.

"You've been here long enough to know the hospital's rules around curfew." I gently reminded the girl as she gave the guilty hang of her head. "You should be in your room, now." I coaxed in an even tone of professionalism and authority as the girl gave a small nod of the head.

"Yes, Doctor Kogara."

When Kaori looked to her feet, I watched as the older woman leaned in and dipped her head in order to quickly whisper something in the girl's ear. Kaori gave the faintest flicker of a smile, lightly biting along her lower lip to hide it from me before she quietly dismissed herself down the hall towards her room. A strange sort of uneasy silence followed in the wake of the young girl's departure as the woman watched her leave before those depthless black orbs regarded me a moment.

"Doctor..." This acknowledgment of my presence followed the small lift of the woman's brow.

"Shigure..?" My greeting came phrased more as a testing question, and I could see that the woman sensed this as she gave the small iconic purse of her lips in amusement before responding.

"Yes." The woman confirmed. "We're still here." Her little lip-purse shaped itself into the smirk of a smile as she said this. "Does that disappoint you, Doctor?" She asked with the small quirk of her head before she began to slowly saunter her lithe slender form towards me.

...like a predator stalking its prey...

"What?" I responded to her question with one of my own as we held each others gaze.

"That we haven't left, yet." The woman clarified with the sultry lilt of her voice.

"Disappoint me?" I considered this a moment before giving the shake of my head. "No." I answered honestly. "It doesn't disappoint me that you're still here, Shigure. But," I decided to choose my words carefully in order to see if I could end up making the most of this serendipitous moment between us as I began again, slowly. "I _am_ a bit concerned."

"And why would _that_ be, Doctor?"

I watched her take a few more slowed, calculated steps towards me on those long slender legs.

"Because I'm getting the sense that you've been trying to avoid me."

And then she stopped in her approach, giving me the cant of her head.

"Were we suppose to see each other today?" She asked, looking genuinely curious as I gave the shake of my head to her.

"No." I answered honestly. "Not today." I said with a brief pause before continuing again. "But you've already missed two of our sessions."

"And you think we did that on purpose?" The woman asked with the tilt of her head and another forward step.

"Did you?" I countered her question with one of my own, and the woman merely smiled at this.

"Come now, Doctor." Her voice came coy and filled with false sincerity. "We already told you that the other day had been our mistake."

"And what about yesterday?" I asked in an even, monotonous tone. "When I found you in the hallway with one of the hospital's staff."

"Yesterday?" She furrowed her brows. "We weren't suppose to meet yesterday, now were we?" The woman gave a chortle of lithe laughter as she ruffled the back of her dark disheveled mop of hair. "Mm." She hummed passively, feigning ignorance. "Funny..." Her tone came whimsically aloof. "Guess it must have just slipped our mind, Doctor." The woman said before offering me a cheeky grin.

"I'm sure it did..." I stated coolly, offering the woman a pointed look of disbelief.

"You _do_ believe us," She asked as she held my dubious expression. "don't you?"

"Should I?" I asked again, wondering how long this persona would insist on keeping up this charade of innocence.

"Honestly, Doctor." The woman lightly scolded my disbelief through pursed lips. "We wouldn't _dream_ of hiding from you on purpose." She said as she held my gaze before another chortle of bubbled laughter escaped through her nose at my expense. "Because _that_ would just be childish."

"Good." I met her deprecating humor with firm professionalism. "Then I'll be seeing you first thing in the morning." This came more of a demand than a request as I continued. "I'd like to start where we left off." I said. "I'd like to talk more about The Memory Keeper." And to this, the woman spared me a withered look of disapproval.

"Of _course_ you would, Doctor."

Before I could further assess the woman's fractious response she once again turned her back to me to head towards her hospital-designated quarters. But before she vanished from me entirely, I called to the woman's alter from down the hall.

"Shigure." The call of this name caused the woman to stop and her head to turn in my direction.

"Yes, Doctor?" She replied, giving me the quirk of a brow as she waited for me to continue.

"I'd also ask that you refrain from interacting with Katsuko, Kaori during the remainder of your stay at this hospital." And the woman offered me a purse-lipped expression of disapproval to this before she spoke.

"Is that a request...? Or a demand, _Doctor_?" That lithe velvet voice came biting in its veiled challenge to this figurative line I had drawn in the sand.

"For now? I suppose that it's a request." I calmly stated with the firm caveat that followed. "But it's one that I _will_ enforce if not followed."

"Why do you want us to stay away from her?" The woman asked curiously with the furrow of thin, dark brows as she stared at me intently...waiting.

"I'm not entirely sure what effect your influence may have on her progress." I admitted to the woman, and she merely chuckled as I said this.

"Oh, but we _do_ so enjoy being an influencer." She responded with that impish smile of hers as her voice adopted an almost sing-song quality. "That's why we write. Because the pen is mightier than the sword, no?" Her tone came slightly amused towards her own words as she spoke, holding my gaze. "To mold impressionable young minds..." The woman declared, though her dark foreboding gaze came far more serious than her outwardly jovial demeanor. "We _are_ an influencer. _Doctor_. It's what we do."

"Not. With. Her." My words came as slowed and pronounced as they were protective, giving myself away to this woman.

" _Why_?" She asked, seeming genuinely perplexed by my words as she regarded me through a narrow squinted gaze.

"Kaori's a very fragile girl." I cautiously responded, as to not divulge any unnecessary or confidential information about the young girl.

" _Or_..." The woman eyed me challengingly from where she stood in the hall. "...perhaps our little Kaori isn't as easily broken as you _think_ she is." She had said this with a strange hint of possessive protection in the tone of her voice, as if she were actually defending the girl in some way. "The human spirit is naturally indomitable and _quite_ resilient, Doctor. And the body is _just_ as praiseworthy." Shigure said. "Take the female form, for example." This came with a little purse-lipped smile as those dark onyx orbs held my gaze transfixed on the woman's pale face. "A woman's body is _specifically_ designed and crafted in order to receive love." Those pursed lips attractively curved into an absolutely licentious simper as the woman's erotic words came ironically poetic. "Or at least we've felt enough women to find that to be the case in our own personal experience." Shigure languidly mused with a little shrug of the shoulders. "Though..." The woman's eyes narrowed along me with some suspicion as she spoke. "We have serious doubts if you can say the same." She offered this stinging jibe at my expense in a passive tone before a quiet snort of laughter escaped her when she witnessed my disapproving expression. "Have we just offended your sensibilities, Doctor?" The woman gave an attractive curled smile as I remained silent. "Did we go to far?"

And the two of us wordlessly regarded each other for a moment. The woman looked me up and down, that dark smoldering gaze draping itself over me in silent appraisal as I held an impassive, unamused expression towards Shigure's lecherous antics.

"Hm..." This came a passive hum through the woman's pursed lips as she stared me down. " _You_." She said as she pointed a bony digit in my direction. "Are a _tough_ case, Doctor." Those deep obsidian eyes regarded me a moment with the small quirk of the woman's head. " _Still_ no sense of humor." She assessed with the soft, disapproving cluck of her tongue. "That's just sad." The woman puffed with the small shake of her head as spindly arms came tucked within the sleeves of her robe. "We really _should_ address that in our next session." She eyed me a little moment with the sardonic smirk of a smile before addressing me again. "We'll pick this up tomorrow, then?" This came an affirmative statement as the woman turned from me to depart down the hall, lifting her arm as she did so in a display of farewell. "Good night, Doctor."

I silently watched the woman saunter down the corridor towards her room as she began to hum a little tune, an almost swing-like swagger in her step. And an uneasy feeling crept over me as I turned to make my own way towards my office. As I walked away, I made a mental note to direct the night staff to increase the interval of checks on Kaori's room throughout the evening to every half hour.

* * *

 **A/N: Shiro's words 'She was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma' come from Winston Churchill's radio broadcast in 1939. Also, the 'we've felt enough women' line from Akito's Shigure persona is an adaptation of an actual quote from Shigure himself. Remember to cite your sources, children!**

 **And, again as always, thank you to all those supporting this story! I hope you enjoy this update, and don't forget to review!**


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